


Some People Have All the Luck

by JulianObviouslyLovesToad



Category: Fire Emblem Echoes: Mou Hitori no Eiyuu Ou | Fire Emblem Echoes: Shadows of Valentia
Genre: Anal Sex, Bittersweet Revenge, Blood and Injury, Emotional Hurt, Family Drama, First Kiss, First Time, Humor, Implied/Referenced Torture, Jealousy, Loss of Virginity, Love Confessions, M/M, Manly Embracing, Mutual Pining, Nightmares, Oral Sex, Panic Attacks, Post-Game as of Chapter 4, Slow Build, Spoilers, The feels are real, lots of flirting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-27
Updated: 2017-06-01
Packaged: 2018-11-05 17:09:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 19
Words: 36,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11017821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JulianObviouslyLovesToad/pseuds/JulianObviouslyLovesToad
Summary: Deen warned him, but Jesse didn't think he'd have to face his past so soon. He's lucky Deen is around to save his hide.orThe trashy novella that is Jesse's life.





	1. Chapter 1

Jesse gasped, a hand clutched in his shirt over his heart. His skin shined with sweat despite the frigid air the tents packed with bodies did little to alleviate. Another sympathetic to Celica's cause turned in his sleep at the disturbance of Jesse waking from a nightmare, kicking out in an effort to get comfortable on the ground that was only softened by a blanket. His foot landed over Jesse's leg and the blonde found he needed some fresh air. Immediately.

Deen's words from their most recent conversation weighed heavily on his mind after waking from a hellscape where his demonic chickens had come home to roost. Once out of the tent, he brushed his bangs back from his face and took a deep breath of the cool air. That was much better, he thought, a smile finding his face again, though it was a tired one.

Jesse wasn't the type to be plagued by nightmares, though slivers of his past would occasionally burrow into his dreams of riches, scores of buxom women and a few handsome men. Though usually they would simply turn his dreams humorous, rather than have him waking in a cold sweat like that night. Seeing his conquest suddenly with his brother's face was a horrifying thought, indeed, but those awkward dreams paled in comparison to the land he'd just woken from.

Jesse shook those thoughts from his head, thinking of more pleasant dreams he'd had in recent weeks to bring back his usual good humor. His skin was cooling quickly with the moisture in the chill, and it allowed him to remember a dream of rescuing a gorgeous redhead from a polar bear in an icy cave he'd no doubt the weather had inspired him to dream up. He walked about camp, giving a wave and a smile to those unfortunate enough to have guard duty when he passed them, continuing the dream where it had left off in his head.

The two were relaxing on a rug he'd made from the slain bear, a pot of bear meat stew his lovely companion had prepared heating on a fire nearby. They embraced to combat the cold, her outfit surely unfit for the weather. He slipped the thin strap of her blouse from her shoulder and she let it go, willingly bearing the delicate slope to him.

Before he'd gotten to the most interesting part, Jesse looked up to realize he'd wandered out of camp. He wasn't far from the nearest tent, the mess hall of all things, only a few hundred paces, but he must've been so immersed in his fantasy that he missed greeting the guards who manned the entrance he'd walked through. He shrugged it off and decided to wander a bit, explore the area though he wouldn't stray far enough that camp would be out of sight and thus shouting range, should he be attacked.

He caught sight of a figure in the treeline and moved closer to investigate, figuring he'd already been spotted. He didn't have his sword, but figured he could take one bandit or scare off a curious gawker with his fists alone. Familiar spiked shoulder guards Jesse noted as he moved closer, however, set aside his concerns.

"Ho, Deen!" he greeted, walking up to the man with a sort of stride that could only be called a strut. Deen looked over briefly, in a jerky motion, then turned his head back the way it was facing before the blonde had interrupted him. "Can't sleep, either?" he asked, softening his voice the slightest bit.

"Do I look to be sleeping?" Deen bit out. He was grinding his teeth, a muscle in his jaw twitching, a fact Jesse could barely make out in the low light of the waxing moon.

"Well, I wouldn't put it past you to be able to sleep standing up, my friend," Jesse joked. He considered nudging Deen to see if it would work a chuckle out of him, but the man seemed even more standoffish than usual, so he didn't push his luck.

A long moment of silence grew between the two and Jesse's smile faltered, fell into an awkward grimace, a twisted version of an attempt at humor.

"What do you want?" Deen growled. Jesse noticed the man was taking short, sharp breaths in and holding them before letting it all out in a staggered but silent exhale.

"Just wanted to talk, since I couldn't sleep," Jesse said, folding his arms behind his head. Something was wrong with Deen, and he was going to get to the bottom of it. "Wanna hear about my dream?" he asked, teeth bright in the moonlight. Deen looked over then, glared. Rolled his eye.

"All of your dreams are ridiculous," Deen quipped. Jesse's hands fell to his sides.

"Hey! Not all of them," the blonde complained. He thought he might've seen one of Deen's brows raise, but he couldn't be sure for all of that hair obscuring the man's face. "My dream of founding a country of mercs isn't all that unrealistic, as long as it is a small one, likely along a river to supply a steady stream of clients. Yeah?" Deen merely gave a rough, one-shouldered shrug. "Would you come live there if I did?"

"Doubtful," Deen replied, what had looked like anger on his features having faded to a mild annoyance by that point. Jesse let out a noise that wasn't quite a whine, but certainly whiny in nature and Deen gave a heavy sigh. When he drew breath again, it was much smoother, so Jesse took it as a sign of progress. "However, if your ludicrous dream ever does see the light of day, and I find myself in need of money, I may visit long enough to find a lucrative contract." Jesse gave a little cheer and patted Deen's elbow, earning himself an irritated frown from the other.

"So, now I've got Saber, Kamui and you on my side." He whistled cheerfully. "Looks like I'm building quite the force of powerful friends." When Deen opened his mouth, Jesse was sure he was going to say something about how they weren't friends, so he interrupted to continue; "So, yeah, my dreams. Wanna hear a good one or a bad one? Maybe a funny one?"

"What did you dream tonight?" Deen asked, his posture relaxing the tiniest fraction. He turned his body slightly toward the blonde and Jesse beamed once more, delighted to have the stoic swordsman's attention. He smile then fell when he remembered the nightmare he sprang up from less than an hour ago.

"Ah, man," he complained, rubbing the back of his head. He reminded himself to swipe someone's comb and right his locks before the morning march. "I was hoping we'd talk about something happier, huh? Seemed like you could use a chuckle." Deen grunted in a way that told Jesse he'd tune out anything that wasn't what had him up right then. "Well, fine," Jesse relented, resting his hands in his pockets. "To make a long, boring story bearable and short," he drew in a breath and let it out before finishing, "I dreamed I was at my father's wake." He made no sound, but Deen turned to fully face Jesse then, waiting for him to continue. "That's it!" Jesse cheered with an awkward laugh.

"I can't imagine that is enough to keep you awake," Deen said. "Unless you had a particular connection to your father."

"Eh, not really," Jesse said, shrugging loosely. "I mean, he took part in making me, and did his best to raise me despite always being sick, but, I mean, you know how it is."

"Not really," Deen said, mocking Jesse a bit. "But, I'm sorry for your loss."

"Oh, the old fart isn't dead yet, as far as I'm aware. But I left home many, many years ago, so he might be at this point." Deen grunted in response. "Ah, maybe it's a prophetic dream, and it's telling me the old man is gone and I should let it go."

"Or maybe it's saying you could do something to prevent that outcome."

"Been there, done that," Jesse said with a wave of his hand. "It never did me any favors, only cemented my future as a mercenary. Huh," Jesse said and put his hand to his chin. He traced his tongue over his teeth as he thought for a moment. "Maybe it did do me a favor then. My life ain't half bad." He chuckled, looking up at Deen. "We should probably get back to camp and try to get some sleep, eh?"

"I'm fine here," Deen answered.

"Ah, but you need your beauty rest, my friend. Your face won't stay that handsome forever," Jesse countered. Deen scoffed and Jesse's smile grew. "There's a laugh! Now let's get back to camp."

"If it'll make you shut up," Deen relented, following the blonde.


	2. Chapter 2

They were so close, they suspected, but everyone was exhausted. Celica relented, taking a brief detour for her friends to recover in a small town that was delighted to have the coin of a traveling group, regardless of their purpose.

Had he not been ready to drop, Jesse would have headed to the tavern and had a pint with a potential conquest. Instead, he fell face first into the first passable mattress without even removing his boots. His snoring could be heard several rooms down.

The next night, however, Jesse was determined to be the life of the party. He threw what little coin he had around like a man who was far wealthier, and knocked back drinks in a way that had even Saber shaking his head, though fondly. Deen regretted following the blonde and his promises of 'fun' to the poorly lit, foul-smelling bar. He hardly found watching Jesse flirt with every woman who walked by his stool amusing, much less fun. Yet there he sat, sipping on something overly warm that tasted vaguely of urine. He suspected the drinks might be cut with it, not that any drunkard would question their cup's contents as long as it warmed their belly and helped them forget their problems. He stood when a man took a swing at Jesse.

The blonde deserved it for slapping the man's ass, Deen thought, but they needed every sword hand they had. When Jesse fell from his chair, laughing uproariously, the red-faced man stalked off. A young woman helped Jesse back to his chair and the blonde twirled a lock of her hair around his finger, telling her he was just playing and didn't mean to offend anyone. Deen's upper lip drew away from his teeth in a display of disgust and he sat back down, trying not to grind his teeth and sip the swill in his mug.

"Don't you look like the picture of a good time," Saber teased, sliding into a seat next to Deen.

"This isn't my idea of a good time," Deen admitted.

"Yeah?" Saber asked. "Well, it's not for everyone. If there's something else you'd rather be doing, you don't have to be here." Saber followed Deen's line of sight and took in Jesse's antics, the blonde had a hand to his head, swooning dramatically as he told the young woman at his side a story. "Ah, you're worried about Jesse. Yeah, he is being a little shit tonight. I'll keep an eye on 'im, if that's what's keeping you here."

"I'm fine here," Deen answered simply, gripping the handle of his mug tightly.

"Well, suit yourself," Saber said with a shrug. He stood. "If you're going to keep an eye on Jesse, I suppose I might find some enjoyable company to spend the night with. Try to have some fun," Sabre said, knocking his mug against Deen's armor.

"Unlikely," Deen bit out. He remembered his manners and barely resisted sighing to add, "but, thank you."

The night stretched on, and Deen wound up eating some dish composed of a questionable meat. It was edible, and not filled with sawdust or straw, so he forced it down and kept an eye on the blonde, who was stumbling when he tried to walk at that point. The young lady who had been on his arm all night kept him upright and, as it turned out, was the daughter of the tavern's owner, so it was in her financial interest to keep Jesse amused and consuming their products. Another woman soon drew Deen's attention.

He didn't like the dangerous glint in her eye.

Even the establishment owner's daughter was put off by the copper-haired woman taking up a seat on the table on the other side of Jesse, who greeted her excitedly. She was modestly dressed and decked out in fake jewels, but her posture would fool no one. She wasn't a common prostitute or barmaid. She was a fox with a mouse in it's sights. Deen kept an eye on her, on Jesse and his drunken flirting. When the owner's daughter tried to gain the blonde's attention back, the redheaded intruder flicked open one of her rings and tipped the contents into Jesse's drink. Deen was on his feet in an instant.

When Jesse picked up his mug, Deen swatted it from dazed hands with his left, his right already holding his sword at the neck of the bejeweled woman in the cream tunic.

"What's your business, woman?" Deen demanded.

"Hey, friend, relax," Jesse started, reaching out for the other's cape. Deen ignored him, keeping his eye trained on the woman before him as she backed up over the table with a cat's grace and tried to play innocent. She twisted fer fingers in the jewels at her neck as she started to cry, saying she only wanted to listen to the tales the handsome swordsman was telling.

"And what of the powder you slipped into his drink? Did you intend to rob the loud drunk?"

"Hey!" Jesse protested. The owner's daughter hid a snorting laugh behind her hand. "Wait, she was going to drug me?"

"She wears poison rings," Deen supplied. "Well, woman? Have you an answer?" He asked, briefly glancing to either side as well-meaning drunks misunderstood the situation and got up from their chairs in order to rescue the plain beauty from the fiend who would point a sword at a supposedly innocent woman.

One of the jewels broke free of the cluster about her neck and she threw it to the floor. She crushed it under the heel of her sandal and smoke billowed up around her, obscuring her from sight. In seconds, Deen, Jesse and the owner's daughter were shrouded as well. Deen sheathed his sword and drew a fistful of his cape up over his face, draping the opposite end over his shoulder to protect himself from inhaling any of what might be in the dark mist. He hooked his sword arm around Jesse, and his off arm around the owner's daughter and hauled them out the rear exit through the kitchen, as patrons flooded the front in their haste to get out.

"What the hell was that?" the young woman asked after she was placed on her own two feet, covering her mouth with both hands as she coughed.

"A smoke bomb," Deen answered, righting his cape. "You will be fine after you drink some water." He turned to Jesse, taking the man's arm in a near-painful grip when he stumbled.

"You sure she didn't already drug me?" Jesse asked. "The whole town's kinda," he trailed off for a moment, holding on to one of the spikes on Deen's armor, "spinning."

"You did drink yourself stupid," Deen complained. He turned an irritated look at the young woman at their sides.

She shrugged. "Hey, it's my job to sell booze. And he's far less ugly than most of the guys who come through here, so I wasn't exactly opposed to him hangin' all over me." She then looked a bit sheepish. "But I suppose I should have called him a few drinks ago and started pushing food on him instead. And," she drew out the word, "you did kinda save me from inhaling most of that smoke and a potential trampling by men fleeing the smoke, so," she poked her fingers together. "I'm sorry, and I'll refund your drink and his last drink."

"Keep the money," Deen said, "just learn to read people's intentions better. You may get hurt some day instead of one of your patrons." Jesse whined and griped as Deen led him away by that powerful grip on his arm, barely able to keep on his feet.

"Geez, slow down, man," he complained. Deen said nothing. "Hey, c'mon, what's your deal?"

Deen stopped, pulling the younger man in front of him, the other's 'oww' only briefly causing some guilt. He stared down at Jesse, though the blonde was only a handful of inches shorter.

"If I hadn't been there, you'd have been robbed blind, or worse," he reprimanded.

"Then I guess it's a good thing I've got friends who look out for me, huh?" Jesse asked, smiling.

"And if I hadn't been there?"

"Well, then I'd probably have woken up naked and without the coin in my pocket. Not like it hasn't happened before."

"Your behavior is careless. Do you really think someone who behaves like you do can run a country?"

"Can you really blame me for wanting to have a little fun?" Jesse asked, wrenching his arm from Deen's grip. The older man growled out a sigh.

"No, but what you call 'fun,' I call annoying," Deen answered. "Not to mention that woman knew what she was doing. She was no common thief, and didn't carry herself as such. Who did you piss off?"

"I don't know," Jesse answered. "Any number of people. Throw a stone and you'll hit someone I've wronged." Jesse threw his arms up in an exasperated gesture and lost his balance. Deen righted him with a hand on his back. He chuckled. "What?" Jesse asked, frowning.

"I didn't imagine you a depressed drunk," Deen offered.

"'M usually not. Lately though, shit," the blonde complained.

"I think you're still too far gone to have a serious conversation," Deen assessed when Jesse leaned a bit of his weight on him. "Where are you staying?"

"How about your place?" Jesse asked, leaning up into Deen's personal space.

Drawing his head back, out of the reach of Jesse's banter and bad breath, Deen threatened, "I will leave you to rot in the street."

"Aww, it was just a jape," Jesse cooed around laughter. "Some inn on the north side."

Deen headed that way, practically carrying Jesse. He couldn't wait to drop the man on the floor of the room.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains elements of torture that Jesse interprets as non-con, but I decided to put a warning here instead of in the tags because non-con will not be a recurring theme.

Jesse had expected to wake up to some stunningly average looking woman or that feminine man whose ass he remembered grabbing the previous night. Perhaps he'd even expected to wind up in the gutter without his shoes and bereft of the coin he'd brought with him. He had not expected to wake up tied to a table in only his smallclothes.

"Huh," he said, laughing to himself at his predicament. "Hello?" he called out, eager to find out who he'd let convince him into this, each limb tied to the leg of a table, his body on complete and total display. When someone walked into his line of sight, they weren't what he'd expected at all.

Fully dressed and wearing a balaclava to hide any discerning features, and most certainly a man. Not his type, either.

"I'm terribly sorry for the confusion," Jesse started, a brilliant smile on despite his vulnerability, "but this is too kinky for me. If this is your thing, I'm not one to judge, but it isn't mine. Now, if you could just untie me, I'll be out of your hair."

A gloved hand gathered Jesse's balls and gave them a rough squeeze, making Jesse yelp and struggle against his bonds.

"Ah, I fear you didn't hear me, friend," he started, trying to turn his body away from the unwanted pressure, the hand holding firm and creating an uncomfortable pulling sensation as he tried to twist away. "I don't remember the safe word!" He called, still misreading his situation. "Safe word!" he screamed when his testicles were given a harsh tug. His voice cracked and tears sprang up in his eyes. "Oh, gods," he breathed once he was released. "You're going to do this until I remember whatever word it was we chose last night, aren't you? I'm afraid that's in bad form not to stop when one says they don't remember that word."

"Are you daft?" the masked man asked.

"Pardon?" Jesse asked, lifting his head.

"I'm not one of your fucking conquests, you useless clod."

"Well, if you would be so kind as to clue me in as to what is happening, I would appreciate it. Because from my point of view, this certainly looks like a miscommunication in sexual interests." The man rolled his eyes in response.

"You are insufferable. You're about to be tortured to death and you mistake your situation for something as classless as you are. I see now why my employer wants you dead." The man picked up an iron bar, turning it over in his hands. "I think I might just kill you and tell the woman I tortured you. It's not like she'll know the difference," the masked man complained. "You'd probably get off on it, anyway."

"Now, friend, I thought we'd already established that I'm not into all of, well, this, huh? Now, if you could just tell me who I've wronged, and how I can give restitution, we can put this whole misunderstanding behind us and-"

"On second thought, I may torture you first. Cut out that ceaselessly wagging tongue of yours and watch you choke to death on it." The masked man tossed aside the pipe, and Jesse flinched as it clanged against a wall he couldn't see and made obnoxious sounds as it rolled across the floor. A knife was brandished from the man's belt and he approached Jesse.

"Oh, dear," the blonde muttered, a nervous laugh spilling over his lips. "Certainly my tongue could be of more used to you attached to me than separate from, yes?"

"Are you propositioning me?" the man asked.

"Uh, will it keep my tongue attached and my heart beating?" Jesse asked, giving what he'd hoped was a charming smirk.

"No," the man answered, picking at a loose stitch on one of his gloves with the very sharp, curved tip of the knife. "I like women. I also don't torture or kill women, so there's that, too. No, it seems no one could get out of anything I would subject them to by- hrk!" Jesse tried to lift his head to see what was happening, but when the man dropped, he lost sight of him. Purple hair soon graced his vision.

"Deen!" he cheered. "Boy, am I glad to see you!" Without a word, Deen cut Jesse's hands and legs free, the blonde wincing, fearful he might be cut in the process. He tried to get up, but his limbs had gone numb.

"Don't try to move yet," Deen instructed. "You've been tied up for some time, and you will only hurt yourself if you do." Jesse curled his limbs up, groaning weakly, not paying attention to what Deen was doing as he moved things around.

"Oh, it feels like someone's shoving icy needles into my hands and feet," he complained, trying and failing to move his fingers.

"That'll happen when you don't get enough blood to them for hours," Deen said, rifling through the masked man's pockets. "Hmm," he said, taking out an empty envelope. It still had half the wax seal. He broke it off of the paper and held it out in front of Jesse. "Does this look familiar to you?"

Jesse cracked an eye open, grimacing. When he could focus on the object in Deen's hand, he opened both eyes, squinted. "Maybe," he said. "Might be a seal I saw running mail when I was a kid, but I couldn't place it if I tried." He let his head fall back. "Ohh, Deen," he whined, "help me."

"If I help you, I'll only be encouraging your behavior," Deen complained, but took one of Jesse's hands anyway, rubbing the prickling sensation from his fingers. The blonde bit his lip to stifle the whines that threatened to escape.

"Hey, this is the second time you've saved me, isn't it?"

"Unless you count on the battlefield, in which case, it's more like a half dozen or so," Deen answered, a small smirk twisting one corner of his mouth up.

"Someone might start to think you've got a bit of a crush on me," he teased, broken up by gasps of pain as Deen's massage took on a violent edge.

"Yeah, don't get your hopes up," Deen said, though his smile didn't fade. "Nh, looks like I said that a bit too late," the taller man said, raising a brow. Jesse brought his knees up to cover himself.

"Don't give me that look! You know stress does a lot of weird stuff to the body."

Deen held up a hand. "Whatever you say." His good humor quickly faded. "We need to move. Celica and crew left yesterday."

Jesse jumped up from the table. "What?!" he gasped. "How long was I out?!"

"A day and a half, I reckon," Deen offered.

"We need to get going! But, uh," Jesse looked down at himself. "I'm kinda... well." Deen made a noise of amusement and unhooked his cloak. He draped it over Jesse's shoulders and headed for the exit. "Oh shit, did you kill that guy?" Jesse asked, stepping over the body.

"Yes," Deen answered, waiting at the door. He held it open for the blonde.

"Well, I'm flattered," Jesse said, grinning despite being barely covered and shoeless in the chilly weather.

"Just go. I hope you have more clothes back at the inn," Deen groused.


	4. Chapter 4

Their march was over, the war had ended and all of the people Jesse had grown close to in the last several months had survived. He counted himself amongst the lucky.

After all of the official madness was out of the way, he joined Saber and Kamui in a bar on the outskirts of the castle kingdom in Rigel. The darker haired swordsman was celebrating his last few days with his most recent traveling companions, who intended to follow Celica and Alm, joining their new government.

"Here's to continuing friendships," Jesse cheered, raising his pint between the three.

"Here here," Valbar added, raising his glass as well.

"I'll miss you, my friend," Leon said, trying not to look too interested in Kamui.

"Ah, can I get a kiss for the road?" Kamui teased, turning his cheek toward the sniper.

"I'd rather kiss a pig," Leon stated simply, shoving the other away. Jesse and Valbar laughed.

Deen, who sat off to the side with the less rambunctious partiers like Boey and Atlas, smirked at their shenanigans. In truth, he would miss listening to Leon and Kamui banter on the battlefield, would miss watching Kamui deny his feelings for the feminine man. He would miss observing the group dynamic. But, he figured, all good things must come to an end.

"Hey," Jesse said, his mug thunking on the table next to Deen, who grunted in acknowledgement. "You're coming with us, right? Kamui, Saber and I are leaving in the morning. We're going to take Greith's old territory and turn it into something awesome. Celica is more than eager to get rid of that land in it's entirety." Deen couldn't help a shiver.

" _I'm_ more than happy to get rid of that land," Deen said. "I thought I told you I'd stop by if I needed money. I don't recall saying I'd go with you."

"Ah, come on, you know you have a lot of fun with me."

"That's debatable." Atlas snorted at Deen's words. Jesse pouted.

"I'll miss you," the blonde admitted.

"Sounds like you're the one with the crush now," Deen snarked, grinning into the rim of his cup.

"Hey, man," Jesse said, poking Deen's cheek with the forefinger of the hand that held his mug, "that kind of attitude is why us guys can't be sentimental with each other."

"Are you drunk?" Atlas asked. Jesse whirled around to grin at him.

"Very," he declared proudly. Both long haired men shook their heads. "But I'm tellin' the truth. I'm gonna miss all you guys. We went and made friends, and now we have to part ways."

"That's life," Atlas said with a sigh. "I'll miss everyone, too."

"Why don't you come with us, too?" Jesse asked, leaning his elbow on Deen's armor.

"I have to get back to my family, man. I'll come visit, though."

"Mm, everyone says they'll come visit, but I've the feeling that's only to get me out of their hair." His sudden somberness evaporated as Jesse stood. "Well, I guess that leaves room to make new friends. To new friends!" he cheered, holding up his mug. Atlas and Boey clinked their glasses with Jesse's. The blonde turned to Deen. "Yeah?" he asked, holding it out.

"Sure," Deen grunted, lifting his mug to tap Jesse's.

Later that night, Deen's belly was warm with a decent liquor he'd taken his time in savoring. He stepped outside for a breath of fresh air and turned his face toward the sky, enjoying the chill breeze on his heated skin. He hadn't decided what he was going to do yet and he felt the slightest bit lost, like he'd just stepped over a cliff, but he hadn't yet realized just how far the fall was. When he realized he was starting to grit his teeth, he took a deep breath and forced himself to relax his jaw. He figured he might as well say a farewell to the blonde thorn in his side and tell him what he knew about Greith's old land, as little as he wanted to remember those days. He headed for the inn he knew Jesse was staying in, running his tongue over his teeth to keep them from touching.

As he approached the building, the warmth was fading from his stomach and he briefly regretted not having another glass. However, when he noticed a figure scaling the wall to the second floor of the building, headed for a specific window, he was glad for his judgement. He had the feeling he knew whose room that figure was headed for and picked up his pace, sighing through his nose.

He breezed past the keep and up the stairs to the door of the room the shadow on the wall had been approaching. He pushed the door open without much care for the blonde's privacy, more concerned for his life than his modesty. A slender figure stood in light pouring in from the window, shucking the devices they used to scale the wall. Upon noticing Deen, they struck, a sword from their back glinting as they launched forward.

Deen kicked the door shut and unsheathed his blade, blocking the assailant's strike.

"Wha?" Jesse asked, blearily. The blonde cursed and reached for his sword that lay against the bedside stand.

"Get down," Deen ordered, parrying another strike and thrusting toward the figure's, who appeared to be a feminine one once his eye adjusted to the light, gut. Jesse took a knee on the floor, readying himself for a fight should he need to, but he stayed out of the way for the moment.

The figure let out an annoyed sound and thrust at Deen again, using her entire body to do so. Seeing his opportunity, Deen knocked her sword to the side and slammed into her with his shoulder. Her lightweight body hit the wall and she grunted. Deen advanced on her, but she was on her feet before he could take more than a few steps. She rolled between his legs and grabbed her climbing devices, putting her sword back into place on her back. Deen whipped around, but she grabbed his cape as it fluttered and flipped it up into his face. When he had fixed the garment, he caught a glimpse of the ends of her hair and the hilt of her sword as she lept out the window.

"Damn," the swordsman cursed, rushing to look out. She was already too far down the street to realistically give chase, as he wasn't dumb enough to jump out the window.

"What was that?" Jesse asked, eyes wide as he stood. He sheathed his sword and leaned it back where he'd retrieved it from and put his hands on his hips. Shirtless, his skin turned to gooseflesh in the chill.

"I was hoping you'd tell me," Deen bit out. He sheathed his sword and rid himself of his cape, clawing at his neck in his desperation to have the thing off of him, throwing it on the floor. He sat on the end of Jesse's bed, facing away from the blonde, scratching at the scar about his eye and grinding his teeth. When Jesse noticed the other was rocking slightly, almost imperceptibly, he sat down next to him.

"Hey, it was me that someone was just trying to assassinate," he joked weakly. When he tried to put his hand on Deen's armorclad shoulder, the taller man shrugged him off.

"Don't touch me right now," Deen growled. After a few harsh breaths he added, "please." Jesse backed off, holding his hands up in a passive gesture. He lay down on the bed on his stomach with his head facing Deen.

"You know, I was having the most wonderful dream when you both showed up," he started, observing the staggered rise and fall of Deen's chest as he spoke. "I was sitting on the arm of Mila's throne, and she was pretending to be annoyed with me to hide her crush. Oh, but she loved me, and so did the ladies who served her, giving me grapes to feed her that she turned her nose up at." He chuckled and closed his eyes. "It was so nice, and I felt the warmth of her love even though she appeared to have a chilly attitude toward me." Jesse opened his eyes when Deen let out a shaky chuckle.

"If only we could all be so lucky," was all he said. Jesse sighed happily.

After a few minutes, Deen's breathing evened out and he rested his arms on his knees. He closed his eye and sighed through his nose, once more forcing himself to stop grinding his jaw.

"It looks like I'm going with you after all," Deen said. Jesse perked up, rising to his elbows.

"Yeah?" he asked, excitedly.

"At least until all of this is settled."


	5. Chapter 5

With Deen at the foot of his bed, and being completely sober, Jesse found it hard to sleep. The taller man eventually shed his armor, but didn't make further moves to get comfortable. The blonde wondered if the other had fallen asleep sitting up.

"You gonna just sit there all night?" Jesse asked, reclining with his arms folded behind his head. Deen had eventually closed the window, but the chill had already creeped in. It felt like a physical thing in the room. When Deen didn't answer, Jesse pressed on, "I don't think she'll come back again tonight. C'mon and lay down. If you're not cold, you can keep me warm because I'm freezing." At least, Jesse thought, that earned him a sigh, so Deen was listening. "You're not weird about sharing a bed with another guy, are you?"

"Of course not," Deen answered. "We've all had to share beds before," he grunted, still facing away from his companion.

"Then get your cute ass up here, huh?" Jesse teased, wiggling his toes.

"I'm fine here."

The blonde sighed and flipped around, once more turning his head toward Deen, though he laid on his back that time. He let his arms hang off the bed above his head and stared up at the purple haired swordsman. "Whelp," he started, stretching his neck until it popped, "I'm not going to be able to sleep if you don't get comfortable, so," he trailed off, studying Deen's face, which was shrouded by his hair.

"So?" Deen asked, looking down at the blonde. Jesse smiled softly and the older man gave an irritated huff and turned away.

"So, let's talk about something," Jesse offered.

"Fine," Deen said, and Jesse's honey eyes widened. His delightfully surprised expression bled away when Deen continued; "Who would want you dead?"

"Aw, man," Jesse groaned, "You would pick the most boring subject out there." He stopped to think about it for a moment, regardless. "I think it might be easier to figure out what I did that would cause someone to want to kill me first, then I could narrow down the candidates."

"You've already said you hadn't murdered anyone and, if you were telling the truth, that's off the table," Deen mused out loud.

"I wouldn't lie to you," Jesse said. Crossing one leg over the other, he continued; "I've stolen from a small handful of people, but nothing of any real value. Except, maybe," he trailed off, turning his eyes up to the ceiling. Deen gave a grunt that sounded vaguely like a question. "Well, the only thing with any real worth I ever stole was some medicine, back when I was, oh, sixteen, maybe?"

"What kind of medicine, and from whom?"

"I don't really know what it was, just that my dad needed it, and," he drew out the word, "from some wealthy family on the rich side of town, close to some Duke's mansion." He smiled then. "He had the most beautiful daughter. Her hair was the color of healthy carrots, and her eyes were like warm cider. She-" he stopped when Deen made an irritated noise from somewhere in his throat. "What? You don't like redheads?"

"Hair color is of no importance to me," Deen said, leaning forward to rest his chin on his hand as he braced his elbows on his knees. "It concerns me how much your desires distract you from the important things."

"Desires aren't important things?" Jesse asked, turning his head to the side to rest his cheek against his arm and look at Deen. Leaning forward, even more of the older man's face was obscured by his hair, but when he turned a look at Jesse, the sight of his good eye was stunningly clear.

"Once your needs are met, I see no problem with going after your desires, but you let yours rule you."

"Ah, I don't need much. Just some food and a place to lay my head. I seem to have my needs met on a regular basis," Jesse explained, breaking eye contact. He was a little unnerved that Deen continued to look at him after he looked away. He almost smiled, briefly thinking about how ironic it was that he always worked so hard to get the other swordsman's attention, but found himself embarrassed by it now that he had it.

"I would think you'd see this country you intend to establish as a need by now," Deen said. He finally, much to Jesse's relief, moved to make himself more comfortable, removing his sword's holster from his belt and propping it against the bed next to him. The movement drew Jesse's eyes and he watched as the man twist himself to pop his back. He would admit to himself that he could appreciate that lean form, and wondered what was under the hide shirt he wore to protect himself from the clasps of his armor. A faint flush found its way to his cheeks when he realized Deen was staring at him, expecting an answer, and his eyes had been roaming places he dare not go if he wanted to keep his limbs intact.

"Well, yeah," Jesse said, giving what he'd hoped was an innocent smile, "but, like, a quarter of the work is already done on that front. Celica is just giving me the land, so I assume she's going to decide the borders. Until she sends word of where, exactly, those borders are, it's just a matter of cleaning house."

"Is that a task you'll be capable of while harassing every moderately attractive villager who doesn't leave for Valentia?" Deen's choice of wording made Jesse raise a brow and smirk.

"I've got Kamui and Saber to keep me on track. Now you as well, it looks like." Jesse stretched, arching his back and let out the smallest of moans as a test, to see if he could garner Deen's attention in that regard. He gave a pleased sigh that wasn't entirely faked at the feeling and opened his eyes to find Deen still looking at his face, both brows slightly raised as if he wasn't pleased by the answer. Jesse kept the sigh he wanted to let out to himself, knowing he should have figured that Deen wasn't into men. He'd started to think Deen wasn't into anyone.

"Well, Kamui could certainly help you in that regard," Deen joked. He almost sounded bitter, but he always did to Jesse's ears.

"What?" the blonde asked.

"Nothing," and Deen turned away once more, that time to look at the ceiling while popping his neck, rotating it and giving a pained grunt.

"I could rub that soreness out for ya," Jesse offered. Deen scowled.

"No, thank you."

"Hey, it's the least I could do since I can't pay you much for all of this," Jesse said with a loose shrug, flexing his fingers in the air as his arms still hung off the end of the bed.

"Another time, perhaps," Deen relented. "At the moment, we still don't have many leads on who could want you dead. Women seem to be your biggest vice. Could you have gotten a noblewoman pregnant?"

Jesse laughed. "I am rather charming, I will admit, but I am not the type of man noblewomen go for."

"Perhaps a woman you left in your wake had some contacts," Deen suggested.

"I sincerely doubt it. I may not be the sharpest tool in the shed, but I am knowledgeable enough to know to pull out, my friend." Deen made a noise that sounded vaguely like 'ugh,' and leaned his weight on both arms. "There was a time when I may not have done that, but it was before I left my hometown, and I am certain I would have known if I had stricken some fair maiden with pregnancy before I left. I'm sure of it."

"It sounds like everything you've done that could've angered someone enough to have them after your head happened before you left home. Perhaps we should start looking there for clues."

"That is not a pleasant thought," Jesse lamented. "I've no wish to head back there."

"It doesn't seem like you have much of a choice if you want to live to see your dream come to fruition."

"But Saber and Kamui are ready to leave for Greith's old land in the morning. I doubt they'd appreciate the detour," Jesse said, finally sitting up. He drew up a knee to rest his elbow on it.

"Send them on to the citadel. I'm more than certain bandits have set up shop in it's halls and will need run out before you can start with legal matters." The blonde sighed in response, dragging a hand over his face.

"Alright," he said. "If it'll put an end to this ridiculousness and allow me to focus on seeing my dream come to fruition, I'll meet with them in the morning and we will head west." Deen merely nodded, leaning down to unlace his boots. "We finally going to try and get a few hours of sleep?"

"If you think you can manage to keep your mouth shut that long." Jesse grinned, despite the insult.

Jesse climbed under the covers, turning the other end down for his companion as he locked the door and checked the window. Deen slipped in and turned his back to Jesse, laying his sword on the bed next to him. He pulled the blankets up over his shoulders.

"Are you really sleeping with that thing?" Jesse asked.

"Go to sleep," Deen ordered.

"Yes, daddy," Jesse answered with a roll of his eyes.

"Do not call me that," Deen bit out.

"Aww, but you watch over me and take care of me," Jesse teased.

"I will end you myself if you call me that," the other swordsman threatened.

"No you won't," the blonde called his bluff.

"Don't push your luck."

"Can I get a good night kiss, daddy?" Jesse cooed, nudging Deen with his elbow. The warm body moved further away with an angry huff. "Aww, I was just playin'," Jesse complained, turning his back to Deen and moving closer until their backs pressed together. "Oh, you're so warm," he said more to himself than the other. "Why must you be so serious and paranoid all the time, huh?"

"I wouldn't have to be so paranoid if you weren't so careless," Deen said.

"Ouch," Jesse whined, making himself comfortable. "Well, if it means anything, I appreciate it. The way I see it, we compliment each other pretty well. Could use a level head helping me out when I'm ruling my own country." When he didn't get a response, he decided it was actually time to call it a night. "Good night," he said quietly. A minute or two passed with no response, so Jesse figured he wasn't getting one. He couldn't help the smile that broke across his face at Deen's even quieter,

"Good night."


	6. Chapter 6

Jesse grew antsier the closer they came to his hometown. They were barely inside the outermost gates when Jesse turned around and said, "Well, looks like there's nothing here. I guess we better get a move on!" When he started to march away, Deen grabbed him by the back of his shirt. Defeated, the blonde let Deen practically drag him into the main square on the working class side of the town.

"Which way to the post?" Deen asked.

"The post?"

"You said you ran mail when you were young. Surely you had a post office, or at least a stand that your letters were passed to you from."

"Oh. No, I took them from house to house on opposite sides of town. It was mostly teenagers who were courting each other behind their parents' backs." Deen gave an angry sigh in response, his shoulders sagging. He grit his teeth and leveled Jesse with a glare.

"Then how are we to find which family that seal belonged to?"

Before Jesse could stumble through an answer, his hands raised about his shoulders and his teeth bared in an awkward grin, someone interrupted them.

"Jesse?!" A loud, deep voice demanded.

"Ah, shit," the blonde cursed. He considered hiding behind Deen, but he'd already been spotted, so he'd only make a fool of himself. "Brother," he greeted, plastering on a grin.

Deen watched the dirty blonde stalk up to them, his face a picture of anger and not all that different from Jesse's own. Though, the brother had bags under his eyes and lacked the charming dimples his blonde companion had. Deen's upper lip curled away from his teeth, disgusted with himself for thinking any part of the blonde pain-in-the-ass was charming. He felt the need to step between the two with the way the other man was advancing, but he held himself back.

"You have a lot of nerve showing your face around here, you brat," the man spat.

"What? Can't a baby brother stop by and say 'hello' every now and then?" Jesse's smile was so obviously fake it was causing Deen's jaw to hurt, and he wasn't even grinding his teeth.

"Not when he abandoned his family eight years ago," the dirty blonde bit out.

"Well, all things considered," Jesse trailed off, barely holding on to his fraudulent carefree air.

"All things considered," the man mocked, "you shouldn't have left." He huffed and turned away. "Well, since you're here, you might as well go see the old man before he kicks the bucket."

"What? The medicine didn't work?" Jesse asked, all falsehoods dropping away, his concern showing.

"It worked just fine, dumbass. The man is just old. He deserves to know that his youngest child is still alive before he goes."

"Well, I'd love to, but I'm kind of here on business, so," the blonde trailed off again, looking to Deen for help. The taller man only shrugged.

"Whatever. It's not like you've ever followed through on anything in your useless life," the brother groused, starting to walk away.

"H-hey!" Jesse objected, but gave up as the other man turned his back to him. His shoulders sagged and he ducked his head the slightest bit. Deen's hand on his shoulder startled him into taking a step back. "Oh, sorry pal," he said, giving a sad chuckle.

"Why don't you go see your father while I locate the post and see what I can dig up?" Deen offered. Jesse set his jaw firmly, holding his awkward smile in place as he took Deen's hand and eased it off of his shoulder.

"Thanks, but no thanks," he said, letting the other's hand fall away. "I think I've seen enough of my family for this year."

"You really should see your father before he passes," Deen persisted. "You never know how much time the man has left." Jesse's brows drew together and he looked off over Deen's shoulder. "I will go with you, if you'd like a friend nearby."

Jesse looked up, a real smile breaking through his melancholy. "So we're friends now, huh?" Deen huffed through his nose.

"I'd have thought you'd already have assumed as much, considering I don't want to see you dead."

"Thanks, friend," Jesse said. "This won't be pretty, though. There's kind of a lot of tension between me and my folks."

"It happens," Deen comforted.

When they reached the house Jesse remembered living in with his family growing up, he didn't recognize the somewhat older woman on the porch or either of the boys climbing the tree in the side yard. The fence looked well-kept, a state it had never been in all throughout his youth. A fat dog waddled about, it's tongue lolling from it's mouth, bounding over to Jesse as he approached.

"Mortimer, heel!" the woman called, but the dog didn't listen, jumping up on Jesse to get his ears scratched some more. "Mortimer, ugh," she called as she walked down the cracked stone walkway. "I'm sorry about that. That dog," she said, pulling him back by the shoddy leather collar it wore, "he loves everyone. Especially strangers."

"No worries, ma'am," Jesse said, one side of his mouth twisted up in his signature smirk. "But, uh, I believe I'm lost. Unless you've only recently moved into this house, as I could have sworn it was the one I grew up in." Deen watched from a few paces back as the woman listened to Jesse, cocking her head slightly.

"Oh, yes," she said. "We moved in four years ago. If you're looking for the Lubin family, they've moved to the south end."

"Ah, thank you, ma'am. You wouldn't happen to know an address, would you?"

"I believe it is building seven, as we do have to re-route letters from their youngest daughter on occasion." The woman looked troubled for a moment, then gave Jesse a patient smile. "May the mother walk with you, child."

"U-uh, and also with you," Jesse responded. He gave a polite nod and reached down to scratch Mortimer's head once more before heading off, back toward Deen. He wanted to touch the clean, painted planks of the fence, but he didn't dare. It wouldn't be the same, but nostalgia would eat him alive nonetheless. "They've moved," he said, motioning for the other to follow.

He remembered traveling into the south end in his youth to deliver the scribblings of a boy not much older than he to a girl who lived there. He remembered her clearly; a plain village girl if he ever saw one, but she had the biggest, brightest green eyes. He had been surprised she could read, maybe all of twelve and poor as dirt. But, if a wealthy boy had taken interest in her, he may have taken money allotted to him by his parents for whatever he wanted and used it to get her a tutor. In the end, he'd decided it was none of his business since the boy gave him cash to deliver his letters, and the girl gave him pickled plums to run hers. She lived in building six. It occurred to Jesse to stop in and see if anything had come of their relationship, maybe delay the inevitable for just a few more minutes, but as he was sure only more sad news awaited him, he pressed on past the house.

He took a deep breath as he approached, a glassy-eyed teenager under the rickety overhang just staring at him as he walked up to the door. Her long, black hair was tied back in a single braid, and she regarded him curiously, but said nothing. When Jesse greeted her, calling out the name he suspected was hers, her eyes widened further and she jumped up to run off. Deen tilted his head slightly in a silent question.

"That was my niece, I think," he said, a brow raised. Deen's brow furrowed and he gave a little shake of his head before gesturing to the door. Jesse took a deep breath before he knocked.

A dirty blonde woman not much older than Jesse yanked the door open. She opened her mouth, looking ready to yell when her eyes went wide.

"Jesse," she gasped. The blonde gave silent thanks to Mila that the only family member he had a decent relationship with was the one to open the door.

"Malin," he greeted, opening his arms for a hug. She jumped into his embrace, returning the hug for a few seconds before pulling away.

"What are you doing here? Niklas is pissed," she warned.

"Yeah, well, he said I should come to see dad before the man died, so, here I am, I guess," Jesse managed.

"I don't know if dad'll want to see you, but I'm glad I got to see you again," she said. "I'll get you something to eat while you see him." She looked over Jesse's shoulder, standing on her toes to get a better look at Deen. "Who's this?"

"My friend, Deen. He's my traveling companion for the time being." Malin tucked her chin to her chest and gave her younger brother a devious smile, hiding her eyes under her bangs.

"Is that what they're calling it these days?" she teased. Deen thought he saw where Jesse learned his various smiles from.

"Go on," Jesse griped playfully, waving her into the ramshackle house.

"Right, right," she said, flipping her hair as she turned, leaving the door open for them to follow. "I'll be in the kitchen," she said, "It's behind the high fence bit. Dad is in the room."

"The room?"

"The only room," she said, nodding.

"Oh boy," Jesse muttered, stepping out of the doorway, letting Deen inside.

His oldest sister ignored him entirely, sitting in a straw and hide chair. She merely continued feeding the baby attached to her breast. "Gina," Jesse greeted without stopping. Deen politely averted his gaze. She looked up after them as they passed, her light brown hair falling away from her face to reveal her pained expression.

"What?" Came a gruff bark when Jesse knocked on the door to the only room in the house.

"Father," Jesse said, turning the handle and pushing the door open.

"Ah, Jesse, my little spawn of Duma."

"It's good to see you too, old man," Jesse snarked.

"Why've you come here?"

"Niklas said I should at least show you I'm still alive."

"A shame it wasn't your mother instead," the man hidden behind an insect shroud over the bed said.

"Tell me how you really feel," Jesse complained, locking his jaw in the most neutral expression he could manage.

"If it had been your mother, at least we'd have a complete family who help to support each other instead of running off and causing trouble."

"If it had been my mother, you'd be dead," Jesse said before his mind caught up with his mouth. He grimaced.

"I think I'd rather that," his father spat. "It's because of you we live here now, instead of the decent house we used to have."

"How the hell is this _my_ fault? I thought having one less mouth to feed around the place would _help_ your financial situation," Jesse said, raising his voice a bit.

"Do you remember that Lundburg woman you were so fond of in your teenage years?" the gruff voice bit out.

"Vivian? Well, yeah," Jesse said. "What about her?"

"She was so angry when you left that she had her father, who happened to be in charge of city zoning, conveniently lose the deed to our property. Without proof of ownership, we were evicted."

"Well, why didn't you have the deed?" Jesse asked.

"The city counsel holds them here, fool boy!" the man hissed. Jesse flinched, backing into Deen's armor clad chest. The taller swordsman braced Jesse, holding him upright when he stumbled. "You cause trouble with a well known family, abandon us, and now you bring strangers into my home! Who is this raggabrash?" Jesse clenched his fists at his father insulting Deen. He was used to the harsh treatment, despite being eight years removed from it, but the old man had never turned his ire on any of Jesse's friends. It sent a bolt of searing hot anger through him. He didn't hear the front door opening, nor his brother announcing his presence.

"Oh, this guy? Yeah, well, this _raggabrash_ is my lover, thanks." Deen pulled a face at Jesse's words, but figured the old man wouldn't be able to see more than his silhouette through the insect netting. He remained silent, letting the blonde carry on this farce. He was admittedly curious to see where the blonde was going with it.

"You are lucky you have an older brother, boy!" the old man spat. "If you didn't, not producing me any heirs would be another strike against you."

"It's not like you need any more mouths to feed around here, old man. I'm also pretty sure Niklas doesn't have a wife, or any heirs yet himself, so don't go giving me heat over this. I made myself scarce to spare us both any more heartache. I see I should have stayed gone!"

"Maybe you should," Came Niklas' deep voice from the doorway behind them. "I would have been better off not having seen your ugly mug again. You rob us of mother, then you rob us of our home, now you intend to rob father of heirs if I don't produce any sons. What worth have ye?" Jesse's face was red with the effort he was making to resist yelling more. His nails dug into his fists. "You're nothing but a no class sell-sword. This hovel is too good for the likes of you." Jesse's outburst didn't surprise Deen, but the words he said did.

"May you walk in Mila's light," he shouted, storming past his brother, knocking the taller, slenderer man out of his way.

Once the dirty blonde had recovered, he turned his glare to Deen.

"What would you want with a man like that? He's a stampcrab of a swordsman who will surely cheat on you with anything that moves. I wouldn't put it past him to have relations with a goat should it sway in a way that catches his eye." Deen grit his teeth and took a deep breath in through his nose.

"Niklas, watch your mouth," the old man scolded.

"Do you think it not true, father?"

"To think of it is to insult the goats."

"I think I see why he left you all now," Deen said, pleased with the calmness of his voice.

"Oh, so he does speak," Niklas said, putting his hands on his hips.

"Everything he did, he did for you all, yet you treat him like he isn't worth the dirt under your feet. I understand the pain of losing a parent, but childbirth is a complicated matter for which you cannot blame the child. He risked his reputation and freedom to see to your health and continued life, left so you would not need to feed and clothe him, yet you act as though he is the parasite." When his words didn't seem to sink in, Deen figured he was wasting his breath and turned to leave. He tossed an irritated "may you walk in Mila's light" over his shoulder.

Out of the house, he looked around, trying to figure out which way the blonde had gone. He chose to head the way they came, deciding it was the best bet. He was no more than a few furious steps down the road before a voice called out to him to wait. He turned to see Malin running down the walk, holding up her dress so she wouldn't trip over it, squinting against her bangs as they assaulted her eyes. She held up a cloth wrapped package once she stopped a few paces from Deen, catching her breath.

"These are pistachio tarts, Jesse's favorite. Or, they were when we were children, anyway. Can you please take them to him? Let him know that no matter what father and Niklas say, Gina and I still love him." Deen smiled despite his anger moments ago. He accepted the package and nodded.

"Of course. You won't get into trouble for giving these to him, will you?"

"Nah," she said, shaking her head. She pushed her bangs out of her face. "At least, I don't think I will. I don't really care if I do, either. I made them myself with my own money I got from milkin' goats, so our old man can complain all he wants, but he won't have a right to. I'll just not listen if he does." She looked up at Deen, and her brows pinched together. Her eyes started to gloss over with tears. "Please take care'a him. I know he can be a bit of a dunce at times, but he ain't a bad guy."

"I know," was all Deen said. After a moment, he turned away.

"Don't forget to give him my love," she called after him.

Deen raised a hand in acknowledgement.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, leave any pairing requests you may have in the comments.


	7. Chapter 7

Deen found Jesse with his forehead pressed to the low hanging branch of a tree that looked to be a popular climbing spot for the local youth with it's easy access both in the low hanging branches, and in view of a good deal of the shacks. He suspected the blonde might be crying, so he made his presence known as he walked up, allowing his footsteps to sound off on the patchy grass and dirt. Jesse gave a weak smile when the other reached his side, but didn't pull his face from the branch. His knuckles were white with the force of which he held it on the opposite side.

"Your sisters send their love," Deen said, holding up the package. Jesse pulled his face from the branch then, his forehead dented with the shape of the bark and his cheekbones stained with red as if he'd been scrubbing hard at them. He managed a chuckle at the sight of Deen, still in full armor, holding up the cloth package.

"You mean Malin sends her love," Jesse corrected, holding up his hands to take the package. He looked uncertain, his fingers shaking the slightest bit. He drew his hands away at the last second and bit his lip. "I don't think," he started, then gave up with a sigh. "Could you hold on to that for me for a bit? If I have one of her sweets here, I'll surely cry and make even more of a fool of myself." In lieu of a response, Deen let his arm fall to his side, still carrying the package. "I kinda regret sending my backpack on with Saber, or I would have put them in there for now."

"I was surprised you parted with nearly all of your earthly possessions, as well," Deen admitted, taking a step back to give the blonde some room to breathe.

"You travel pretty lightly, too, ya know," Jesse quipped.

"I have my sword, my water and my money. It is all I need."

"Good philosophy," Jesse teased, finally looking at Deen. The other regarded him with a softer look than usual, though it didn't strike the blonde as open concern. "So, uh," Jesse started, bringing the hand that had been attempting to choke the tree up to scratch the back of his head, "I'm sorry I left you back there. I just couldn't take another minute of, well, that."

"You need not apologize. I am sorry for pushing that on you. I should have listened to you," Deen admitted, looking away. Jesse laughed.

"Oh my goodness," the blonde cheered. "Is the great and powerful Deen confessing to me that he may have been wrong for once in his life?"

"I am not omnipotent," Deen snapped, looking back at Jesse. "They are your family," he trailed off, giving a little shake of his head. "I had no right to force my ideals where they didn't belong. I let my own feelings get in the way and caused you undue pain. For that, I am sorry."

"Sounds like there's a story there," Jesse offered an opening, hoping to get Deen talking about something else.

"Perhaps later," is all Deen says. Jesse deflates and lets his hand fall from his head.

"Yeah, alright. Uh, hey, I think I remembered who I've pissed off," he started, giving a half-hearted shrug of one shoulder.

"The Lundburg girl," Deen stated simply.

"Heh, yeah," Jesse answered. "We were kind of a thing for a little bit while I was, uh, trying to steal that medicine from her family."

"I see," Deen said. His mouth set in a firm line as he waited for Jesse to say more.

"So, uh, I guess we should head that way. I can pay them back for the medicine so they can call off this madness, then we can get back to work."

"Lead the way," Deen offered.

The rich neighborhood had changed drastically. Most of the houses seemed devoid of life, still in pristine condition, but with a fine layer of dust as if they had been abandoned and sat, undisturbed, for many years. Jesse found himself wondering if the duke had fallen from grace and all the wealthy families had just up and left.

"Well, this is it," the blonde said, standing at the end of a moderately long paved walk, motioning to a four room house of granite. He remembered it sparkling in the sunlight, but dirt and dust and wind had dulled the exterior without someone cleaning it regularly.

"It looks abandoned," Deen noted.

"You don't say?" Jesse asked with a snort, earning himself a glare.

"We'll have a look anyway, and see if they left any clues as to where they went." Deen started down the walk, but stopped immediately, Jesse walking right into him. The blonde made a noise of questioning and Deen motioned for him to step back. So he did.

Jesse balked when Deen unsheathed his sword, but watched as the other brought it down to the ground. A tripwire was triggered, and a blade shot from a bush to their right and buried itself in the decorative fencing to their left. Deen scowled at the trap, disgusted that someone would place something like that where a child may trigger it.

"Uh, ya know, maybe I'll just follow your lead," Jesse offered, following the swordsman with his brave sword in one hand, a package of sweets in the other. He handed the package off to the man behind him when they reached the door. They both realized quickly that the door's handle would have electrocuted Deen had his gloves not been leather and rubber. The purple haired man's scowl only deepened.

After opening the door, he checked the immediate area for traps. Finding nothing, he sheathed his blade and started disabling whatever device was feeding the electricity through the copper handle.

"Man, if they've abandoned the place, why would they booby trap it? It's barren in here," Jesse complained.

"Greed," Deen answered, prying the clockwork device from the back of the door. He crushed it under his boot. "They appear not to want the poor to live in their former abode. Disgusting," he spat. "A building of this size could easily hold several families."

"Well," Jesse said, "that's rich people for ya." He turned in place, taking in the entryway, the steep staircase and what he could see of the family room. "Looks like they forgot a box," Jesse noted, pointing to a crate resting under a window toward the front of the unit.

"Do not touch it," Deen ordered. "It, too, is likely a trap." Jesse held out a hand in an offer for Deen to walk through.

The older man inspected the box, finding what he suspected was an address etched into the top and made a mental note of it. He opted to open the box to see if it was trapped. He was surprised to find that it wasn't, and rifled through the box's contents to make sure. It was full of smallclothes and slips, and Jesse gave a delighted haw at the way Deen's cheeks colored. "Hope someone was wearing clean undergarments when they left, since they forgot this," Jesse joked.

"Well, we have a lead," Deen huffed, fitting the lid back onto the crate. "But before we leave, I would like to check the rest of the house for any other clues, as well as traps. This place should become livable again," he said flatly and turned on his heel. "Stay put."

"Will do," Jesse said and put one hand in his pocket to wait, spinning the package playfully in his other.

When Deen returned, he looked absolutely livid and was grinding his jaw. Jesse was about to make a quip, but upon seeing the other's expression, he settled on,

"Get 'em all?"

"I believe so," Deen managed, storming past the blonde, who quickly followed.

"You gonna be alright?" Jesse asked.

"I will, yes," Deen said, not looking at his companion. "I am just disgusted by the selfishness of some people."

"You must not have grown up around rich people, then," Jesse commented, "we were decently well off in my youth, but we knew how awful those with a lot of money could be."

"I grew up around hard working men and women," Deen answered through gritted teeth. "Military. None of them would have been so selfish as to deny someone lodgings once they had no need for them."

"Oh yeah, you grew up pretty close to the border, didn't you?" Deen only made a noise of acknowledgement in response.

After a few minutes, Deen's angry stalking slowed to a casual walk and he turned his attention to Jesse. "We have a lead now," he said, "but this day has been exhausting. We should rest before we move on."

"You can if you want," Jesse said, "but I'd like to get out of here as soon as possible." He pushed his hair out of his face with his free hand and managed a smile. "I've got dinner," he said, holding up the package from his sister, "so I'll be alright to keep going on my own until we can meet up in the next tow-" He stopped dead, Deen's sudden closeness making him offer a half grimace, half smile. "Buddy?" he asked when Deen shucked a glove and put the back of his hand to the younger man's forehead.

"You need to rest," Deen said. "You will make yourself sick if you don't."

"Aww, I didn't know you cared," Jesse teased to combat the awkwardness of the moment. He wanted to look away, but he had a good view of the scar Deen usually kept hidden under soft-looking locks. The blonde had the urge to reach out and touch the scar tissue, but knew better than to press his luck like that and kept his hands to himself. When he made eye contact with Deen, he almost said something out loud about just how long the other's eyelashes were.

"We're resting," Deen ordered, not breaking the stare down as he replaced his glove on his hand.

"OK," Jesse mumbled, finally tearing himself away from that intense gaze. "But, uh, can we camp? I'd really rather not stay in the city any longer than I have to." Deen softned the slightest bit.

"Sure," he said.

After purchasing a small bag of provisions, just some dried meat, a small pot and some hard flat bread, the two headed out of town, taking the first steps on their journey to their new destination. An hour or so after the noise of the city faded into the background, the duo found a small clearing amongst the trees with healthy, soft-looking grass, fed by the decaying trunk of the large tree that had fallen there.

"This should do," Deen said, setting down his bag. He sat, crossing his legs.

"What? We're just gonna sleep out here in the open?"

"Have you a problem with that?"

"What if it rains? We should at least build a lean-to, or something. Look here," Jesse said, pointing to the largest end of the decaying log. "If we build off of this, there should be plenty of room for us to both lay comfortably." Deen considered the idea for a moment, then rose to his feet.

"Very well," he said.

It took the two well into the fading light of the evening to find enough long, sturdy sticks that would give them shelter from the elements. Jesse threw fallen leaves over the structure and then smiled triumphantly at Deen, who couldn't help but return the gesture with a fond shake of his head. Deen expected them to go straight to sleep, both of them having nibbled on dried meat on their walk and shared the water from Deen's pouch, but Jesse sat next to their belongings and opened his package.

"C'mere," Jesse called. Deen approached and gave a slight tilt of his head and a raised brow when Jesse held up one of the tarts. "Try one," he said, shaking the treat. "Malin's tarts are awesome. They're her only recipe I couldn't get the hang of when she tried teaching me."

"Thank you," Deen said, kneeling to accept the sweet. Jesse smiled brightly when the older man took a small bite of it. They both ate in silence, then Jesse wrapped up the remaining tarts and set them next to Deen's bag that the older man had moved closer to the lean-to.

Deen shed his armor and Jesse removed his shoulder guards. Jesse crawled in first, putting his back against the rotting log. Deen followed, facing the sticks, his back to the blonde. Silence stretched between the two, but neither found sleep.

Jesse's thoughts were relentless; his family, Vivian, his friends waiting for him in Greith's old territory. _Deen_. He fidgeted, trying not to allow any part of himself to touch the other, not wanting to draw the ire the man had expressed at the duke's circle earlier, and was humbled by the fact that Deen felt safe turning his back to him while they slept.

Deen found himself in a similar state, irritated over the greed that still remained in the world. He wouldn't have believed that such greed existed so far south had he not seen it himself. He couldn't help gnashing his teeth, berating himself over sticking his nose where it didn't belong. He shifted just enough to bring his hand to his mouth, to chew on the leather of his glove rather than to powder his teeth.

"Can't imagine that tastes very good," Jesse joked, though his voice reeked of exhaustion.

"Go to sleep," Deen ordered.

"I can't," Jesse complained, sighing heavily. He let his head fall forward, his forehead resting against Deen's back between his shoulder blades. The older man gave a barely audible gasp, tensing. Jesse sighed again and Deen forced himself to relax, letting out a shaky breath. "Sorry," Jesse muttered.

"It happens," Deen comforted awkwardly. He closed his eye and took a few deep breaths, trying not to react when Jesse moved closer, his curled up arms pressing against Deen's back. "Have you tried counting sheep?" Deen bit out through clenched teeth.

"No sheep around to count," Jesse lamented.

"You imagine them," Deen said around the leather between his teeth.

"Oh, so that's the secret to it," Jesse said with a chuckle, turning his face so his cheek pressed against Deen's back. He gave a little nuzzle, the hide shirt a pleasant sensation against his stubble he hadn't recently had a chance to shave. "Look, I know you're irritated by the rich people, but they're gone now, and you've disabled all the traps. Someone will be able to move into that house, maybe now that Vivian's family is gone and someone else is in charge of zoning. Things will work out," he muttered, his voice gravelly with the weight of his tiredness. "They always do."

"I hope so," Deen admitted.

Eventually, Jesse's soft snoring let Deen know the other had drifted off. The tension melted from his body when the blonde turned in his sleep, rolling over on his back, though one hand still rested against Deen's back. The purple haired man gave in and turned toward the blonde, as silently as he could, and looked at Jesse. Slight bags were starting to develop under those eyes that were usually so full of mirth. Deen pulled his glove off with his teeth and used his bare hand to push Jesse's bangs out of his face, feel the warmth that radiated from his forehead. He thought he should have insisted they stay in an inn, concerned that his companion may be developing a fever.

He didn't know where the desire to feel the strong lines of Jesse's jaw came from, but Deen refused to give in to the urge, simply studying the other's face. His dimpled chin really was charming. The man could possibly be attractive, should he be able to keep his mouth shut.

Though, even at the moment, his mouth was open, twisted up in a smile and drooling. Deen scowled when he realized a trail of saliva was making it's way to Jesse's neck. He scoffed, rolled his eyes and put his glove back on. Moment over, he moved himself to his original position and wrapped his hand around the sheath of his sword that lay next to him, willing himself to get some sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a few more ideas bangin' around in my brain, like a somewhat sad Forsyth/Python with hints of Lukas/Python and Clive/Python, as well as a fluffy, G-rated Mycen/Genny (which would be my first G-rated fanfic on this site, should I write it) aaand a sad, but sexy Berkut/Fernand with nondescript Berkut/Rinea elements. Let me know if any of this tickles your fancy.
> 
> I also have the feeling my best friend is going to want to punch me in the dick once she finishes the game and I beg her to read all of my fanfics. But, it's OK, because I will read her Transformers fanfics in return.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter earns the Graphic Depictions of Violence warning.

Their lead took them further south than they wanted to go, but Jesse was delighted by the warmer weather, his jovial attitude returning full force. With it, Deen's ever present scowl took up residence on his face once more.

The address led to a cluster of large houses in the shade of a cliff that was rumored to be home to bandits, but just far enough away that those living there wouldn't have to fear for their children's' safety, should they allow them to play outside. The house they found was similarly abandoned, though much lighter on the traps than the last one. The duo explored the house, finding no new leads.

"Well, damn," Jesse said, his hands on his hips, the cloth from his sister's package hanging out of his back pocket. "What do we do now? We can't just go asking about a wealthy family. They'll know we're on to them and send another assassin," he griped.

"There has to be something here," Deen said simply.

"Well, we can go through the place again, but all there is worth even looking at is the silver they left in the dining room." He trailed off for a moment. "Hey, would you be entirely opposed to me taking that?"

"No, but boil it before you use it or sell it," Deen said, "I wouldn't put it past them to have poisoned it. These are not good people."

"Boy, you're telling me!"

While packing up the silver in the cloth, he noticed a different pattern to the wood floor under the cabinet than that of the rest of the flooring.

"Hey, Deen," he called. He received a grunt from another room. "I think I've found something." The older swordsman walked around the corner and stared at Jesse, waiting for an explanation. "Let's move this cabinet. I think there's something under it."

Deen dropped his bag and stepped up to the large wooden structure, taking one side in both hands. Working together, the two moved the surprisingly heavy structure out of the way, revealing a door cut into the floor.

"Well, then," Deen said with a raised brow, picking up his bag. "Good work." He pulled it open by it's ringed handle, pointedly ignoring the way Jesse beamed. He headed down the steps, Jesse hot on his heels.

The path was dark once they moved away from the light that filtered in from the house, and Jesse put a hand to the wall to keep himself on the path.

"This is going to be an interesting journey, what with no light," he commented, giving a slight chuckle.

"Just stay close to me," Deen ordered, walking off ahead of the blonde. Jesse hurried after him, reaching out to grab a fist full of cloak, not wanting the older man to get too far away. Deen grunted.

"Sorry, I can't see you to keep up, and you're not much of a fan of talking, so this is really my only option."

They followed the path for quite some time, Deen occasionally stopping to listen to nothing that Jesse could hear, it seemed. Every time, the blonde would run face-first into the other's back. After recovering from a particularly hard slam into the armored back that had his nose aching, Jesse threw out a question;

"Did you get super hearing when you lost your eye, or something?" He regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth, and half expected Deen to wrench his cape from his grasp and continue on without him.

He was surprised by the simple, "yes," Deen offered.

"What? Really?" Jesse asked, mouth agape. Deen scoffed.

"No, you imbecile," Deen said, his voice surprisingly light for the heft of the insult. "We're getting close to something. I can feel a breeze," he informed.

"That's good to know," Jesse said. "I can't feel anything back here. You're so tall and broad and-" Deen cut the blonde off with a grunt. "What, don't like being complimented?"

"I don't like being reduced to the object of someone's sexual desires," Deen bit out.

"Ah, man, I wasn't doin' that. I was just paying you a compliment, geez," Jesse complained. "Let's hurry up and get out of here. I'm starting to feel claustrophobic, and I can't even see to tell if I should feel that way."

Deen moved on without comment.

A few minutes later they came to a stop, Deen reaching out before him and finding a wall. He searched with his hands up the wall, making a victorious noise in his throat at finding something of a different texture, something he assumed was a door. He lifted his foot and found cut stone steps. He followed them up, Jesse stumbling up behind him until light flooded the area, Deen having thrown the door open.

"Well, this doesn't look good," Jesse said once he poked his head out the door, a dozen rough looking men staring at them both. "Hello, gentlemen," he said, climbing out of the door. Deen sighed, letting it fall shut behind himself.

"Well, I think we've found one of their connections," Deen complained.

Axes and swords were brandished. One of the men even had a trident. Jesse laughed.

The next two minutes were a blur of blades, Jesse and Deen winding up back to back more than once. Briefly distracted, watching Jesse in his natural element, the blonde blocked a strike meant for his companion.

"On your toes, my friend," Jesse said, winking at Deen before turning and thrusting his blade into the gut of one of their attackers. Deen let out a noise that sounded like "feh" and took down one of the attackers that made his way for Jesse when he was occupied by prying his sword from a brigand's gut. He glanced over his shoulder in time to see the action. "Aww, man," he complained as they ran off the rest of the bandits, "I go and repay you for one of the times you saved me, and you go and get it right back."

Deen grinned at Jesse's words.

"I guess you'll just have to owe me, then," the purple haired man teased. His good humor fled at Jesse's pained cry and he whipped around to see his friend's thigh run through with the sword of one of the men they'd dropped, but not killed.

"Oh dear," Jesse said, a pained, awkward laugh bubbling up in his throat.

"Serves ye right," the man bit out, but he couldn't continue for Deen's sword stabbed through his neck, decapitating him as it sank into the earth beneath them. Jesse was stunned that Deen left his sword where it stuck and took to his side. He shed his cloak and started tearing it into strips with his teeth.

"Your cloak," Jesse moaned as his friend wadded up a large chunk of it in one hand, grabbing hold of the hilt of the bandit's sword with the other. Jesse braced himself on a nearby crate, screaming when Deen pulled the sword from him.

"I can buy a new cloak," Deen said, pressing the wad of fabric to the front of the wound. "I can't buy new friends," he continued as he wrapped the fabric around to the other side of the wound, pressing it tight on both sides to staunch the bleeding.

"That's debatable," the blonde joked, reaching out with one hand to hold onto one of the spikes on Deen's armor.

Several minutes of Jesse's pained, labored breathing and Deen's worried teeth gnashing being the only sounds in the cavern passed, and the purple haired swordsman lifted the cloth to see if the bleeding had stopped. When blood still welled up in the thin wound, he cursed, pushing the fabric back into it.

"Oh gods," Jesse whined at the pulling of the fabric on his wound. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Go for it," Deen managed.

"W-why did you come with me on this crazy adventure, huh? It seems like I keep messing up and getting you into trouble," he admitted, smiling ruefully.

Deen looked up at him and drew in a deep breath. In truth, he'd been wondering that himself. He looked back down to where his hands were pressed to the other's leg.

"You'll never create your country of mercenaries if you die before then. Someone has to keep your dumb ass alive." Jesse laughed in response.

"If you're not careful, someone might start to think you have feelings for me."

Instead of humoring Jesse with a response, Deen said, "Save your energy."

"That didn't sound like a denial, my friend," Jesse teased. Deen checked the wound again, pulling the cloth away a bit roughly in retaliation.

Satisfied with the thin trickle that oozed from the wound by then, Deen set the fabric aside and reached for the ties of Jesse's pants.

"Woah," Jesse cried out in surprise. "Gettin' a little friendly there, aren't ya?"

"Don't flatter yourself. I'm bandaging your leg so we can get out of here," Deen bit out. He slid the hide slacks over hips that Jesse arched forward in an attempt to help. "Don't move," Deen ordered, "I can handle this."

"You take a lot of guys' pants off, huh?" Jesse teased. Deen glared up briefly and Jesse couldn't help but grin despite the pain. When he had the pants down to the wound, pointedly ignoring looking at inappropriate parts of Jesse and his musky smell that was tainted with blood, he took off one of his gloves and offered it to Jesse. "What's this for?"

"I'm going to have to pick the fabric out of this wound so you don't get an infection. I offered you something to bite, should you need it."

"Oh," Jesse said, deflating. "It sucks not to have a healer in your party," he complained.

"It does," Deen agreed. "Ready? This may take a minute or so."

Jesse put the wrist of the glove between his teeth and replaced his hand on Deen's armor. He nodded, whining in his throat when the hide was pulled away from the clotted blood. Thankfully, there was very little that needed to be picked from the wound before it could be bandaged, thanks to the blonde's choice of material. Deen tied the bandages quickly and helped Jesse back into his pants, tying their strings for him.

"Can you walk on your own?" he asked.

"I think so," Jesse said, taking the glove from his mouth and giving it a go. He hobbled, but managed, and found his sword. As he sheathed it, he looked at Deen and said, "ya know, if you were to ever remove my pants, that's not how I imagined it would go."

"You've just had a sword clean through your leg, you're lucky the bone was missed and that you're not bleeding out right now, yet your mind is still in the gutter," Deen marveled. He stuffed the remaining strips of his cloak into his bag and pried his sword from the earth. He cleaned it with an unstained portion of the bundle he'd used to stop Jesse from bleeding as the blonde laughed. After Deen sheathed his sword, Jesse spoke;

"Hey, bein' horny beats bein' miserable," he said.

Deen scoffed, putting his glove back on when it was handed to him. Jesse convinced him to put his swiped silverware and the cloth from his sister's gift in his bag. Deen offered one of his shoulders for Jesse to brace himself on as they looked for an exit for the cliffside bandit hideout they'd found their way into.


	9. Chapter 9

They head back north to the nearest small town with an inn they can easily afford. Jesse spends a few days recovering as they try to figure out what to do next.

"As much as I don't like the idea," Deen says, setting his boots at the foot of the bed, "we might have to make you an open target and draw another attaker in, capure them, and question them until we get a lead."

"Yeah?" Jesse asks, his hands folded over his stomach, his knee resting over what should have been Deen's pillow. "And how would we go about making me an 'open target,' hmm?"

"The same way you did the first time," Deen answered, "making an ass of yourself with drink in public."

"Ah, that's the first fun suggestion you've made this entire trip," Jesse cheered. Deen drew in a deep breath and rolled his eye. "But," he drew out the word, "I could use a few more days to fully recover from my dreadful wound. So, come up here and keep me warm." He made grabby hands at Deen.

"You don't need to be kept warm in this weather," Deen argued.

"Well, maybe I just wanna cuddle you," Jesse teased.

"Cuddle with yourself," the other said, turning away to rifle through his bag.

"We can share a pillow," Jesse offered.

"I could make you sleep on the floor," Deen threatened. Jesse clicked his tongue in response.

Two days later, the swordsmen left for a bigger town. Jesse promptly followed through with their plan, downing drink after drink while flirting with every woman who wasn't already on someone else's arm. Nothing happened the first night, and they repeated their experiment for a second.

Deen hid his chuckle in the rim of his mug when a strawberry blonde slapped Jesse. Another girl was at his side to coo sweet nothings to soothe his bruised ego with her presence and his bruised face with the glass mug of a cold drink.

Someone approached Deen from his left and he didn't even look up. "I'm not interested," he said simply. He could feel movement, and finally looked. The blue haired young woman crossed her arms and frowned down at him.

"You don't even know what I was going to say," she said, tapping the toe of her shoe.

"You were going to offer either company or food, and I have no interest in either," he said, turning his attention back to Jesse.

"Actually, no," she said, sitting down next to him despite his clear distaste at the act. "I was going to talk to you about your little blonde friend over there."

"What about him?" Deen asked, eyeing her briefly.

"Oh, it's just that he seems so loud and brash and, quite frankly, annoying. I can't believe someone like that would be your type."

"My type?" he asked, actually turning to look at her.

She put her hand to her chest, over her apron strings and smirked. "Why, with how you've been watching him all night, it's clear you have some sort of interest in him. Unless you've come to collect a bounty on his head. Tell me," she said, putting both hands on the table and leaning in conspiratorially, "is he a wanted man? Has he some large sum of money being offered for his head?" Deen chuckled.

"I certainly hope not," the swordsman offered. "He is my traveling companion. We came in together. Surely you saw."

"'Fraid not," she answered. "I was in the back a'cookin' when you all came in." She stood with a sigh and folded her hands behind her back. "Eh, well, darn," she said, "I was hopin' something exciting was going to happen around here for once. Oh well. I guess I better get back to cooking, then. If you find yourself hungry, just get my attention."

"You may not be disappointed tonight, after all," Deen said, also getting to his feet.

"Whysat?" the young woman asked, icy eyes glittering with excitement. By the time her eyes found Deen again, the man was disarming a knife-wielding assassin. He was promptly knocked unconscious and drug from the bar by the purple haired swordsman, the blonde giggling and following close behind. "Huh," the girl said. "That wasn't quite as exciting as I'd hoped, but it works, I guess."

The assassin came to, recognizing his surroundings as a stable, and that there were boots before his eyes.

"Hello, friend," Jesse greeted, sitting on his haunches to look at the man.

"Fuck," the assassin complained.

"No thanks," Jesse said, laughing. "You're not really my type. But, I could be persuaded to let you go should you tell me who hired you, and where they are."

"How the hell are you so cheerful after all you drank last night?" the assassin hissed, turning his head as far away from Jesse as he could. Hogtied and laid on his side, that wasn't far. He cursed again when Deen graced his sight.

"You'd be surprised how much liquor it takes to give me a hangover. I've had years of practice in this field. Now," he said, reaching out to grab the man by the sharp chin and turn him back to face him, "if you'd like to tell us who sent you, we can put an end to this right now."

"Just kill me. I won't tell you anything." Deen rolled his eye and Jesse smirked.

"Oh, I have no intention of killing you," the blonde started. "I will, however, gag you and give the local children sticks to poke you with."

"You wouldn't," the man said, testing his bonds. "I'll scream. Someone will free me."

"I doubt it," Jesse said, holding his hand out for a cloth Deen offered. "You're welcome to try, though." He managed to gag the thrashing man while laughing.

After providing the local children with the very best sticks he and Deen found, the the two headed back to the room they shared at the inn to get some rest. They milled about town for the next couple of days, finally going back to check on their prisoner with a mug of water near sundown.

The man was filthy, covered in small cuts and questionable substances. He looked ready for the end when Jesse knelt in front of him. He sat the water off to the side and untied the gag.

"Well?" he asked.

"End this," the man begged. One of his eyes was swollen, and Jesse wondered what a child could have done to cause that.

"Not the answer I was looking for," he said, moving to put the gag back on.

"Baron Hirgel Lundburg. He lives in the old capital," the man gasped out. "Now please."

"Now, was that so hard?" Jesse asked, holding the cup to the man's lips so he could sip the water.

"Are you sure you want to let him live?" Deen asked, cutting the man free.

"Yeah, I don't think he'll be giving us any more problems," the blonde said, watching the man greedily chug the water he was given. He threw the mug aside and darted out the door, stumbling from the prickling in his limbs, shoeless. Jesse laughed so hard he snorted.

The younger man jumped up. "We can finally put this to rest now that we know where to find them!" he cheered. He turned to Deen and threw his arms around the older man's middle.

Stunned, Deen did nothing for a long moment, heat rising to his cheeks. Just as the embrace was about to become awkward for Jesse, Deen returned the gesture with one arm, patting the firm back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the varied lengths of the chapters. I've bullet pointed my plot, and once each one is met for a chapter, I post it. Some points are not taking as long as I thought they would to get through, and some are taking longer.
> 
> But, woo! Halfway point. Boys are having feelings.


	10. Chapter 10

Once more in wealthy neighborhoods, Deen is disgusted. Women call their children inside when he and Jesse pass. Though they've donned clean clothes, people still turn up their noses at them. He had thought someone had said this would change since the war was over, but it hadn't. The rich were still the rich and, though there was a little more social and economic mobility, life remained mostly the same. Money, he figured, would never change, and would never cease to separate and corrupt. But, he took comfort in the fact that it would soon be over, that he could soon go somewhere else.

They finally stood in front of a mansion, before a little gate with the emblem on the wax seal painstakingly etched into it. Their bushes were roses, and walkways cobblestone that shone in the midday sun. Jesse hesitated.

They had spent many nights talking about what they'd do, should they not be able to buy their way out of the family's distaste. They spent several restless evenings talking about potential outcomes, debated whether or not they'd kill the baron or his daughter, or anyone else who gave them grief. At some point, it had become _their_ mess, not just Jesse's.

"This is it," Jesse said, giving a little laugh. Deen nodded, motioning for the other to continue on to the door. The blonde wanted to make some joke to buy himself a minute but, for once, he had nothing. He reached behind the little fence to unlatch it and headed up the walk.

They were greeted at the door by a house keeper, who asked their business. When they asked to speak to the baron by name, they were invited into a sitting room while the keep went to see if the baron would have an audience with them. A maid brought them tea and tittered at Jesse's toned down flirting. Deen noted that it was an almost tasteful form of flirting, when the blonde was nervous out of his mind. He almost hoped it wouldn't stay that way, but tossed those thoughts aside when a woman around Jesse's age entered the room.

She wore a green pleated gown with gold stitching about the breast. A translucent scarf of a paler green was draped about her shoulders and ringlets of carrot colored hair hung from a bun at the back of her head. Her light brown eyes looked grim, though they had been pat down with gem powders.

"Vivian," Jesse gasped, jumping to his feet.

"Jesse," she spat, making sure the table stayed between them. "It has been some time."

"Vivian, would you allow me a chance to explain?" the blonde asked, one hand over his heart.

"I know very well that your father needed the tonic you stole. I've no grief with you over that. Had you asked, I would have likely given it."

"Then why," he asked, splaying the hand that was previously over his heart out to the side. "Why all this?"

"Why all this, indeed," she said and gave a bitter laugh, scratching at the choker she wore and fixing her blouse. "Do you know what you did to me?" she asked. Deen watched her closely, her movements making him nervous.

"You know I cared about you, but I had to leave. I couldn't have stayed with you. Your father wouldn't have allowed it, you know that."

"He would have, had he known you'd filled me with your child," she said, brandishing a bejeweled dagger from one of the folds in her dress.

Deen stands and draws his sword, but Jesse holds out his hand and places himself between the two. He moves toward Vivian, but she keeps the table between them.

"We had a child?" Jesse asked breathlessly. "Was it a boy or a girl?"

"A boy," Vivian answered, staying still as far from either man as she could get since Deen hadn't moved since Jesse asked him to stop.

"What is his name? Where is he now?" the blonde asked, moving closer slowly.

"What does it matter? It's dead now. It wasn't a healthy baby because I was so distraught. Imagine! A baron's daughter, an unwed mother! What a shame to my family. And that reputation followed me, even after the duke fell from grace and we all moved. No one wanted a woman who already had a child, and a weak child at that. Until we moved to this city, my family treated me like garbage for it, and even now my father keeps me locked up, saying I may not leave until I marry or turn thirty, at which point he intends to throw me out on the street," she lamented, pointing the knife at Jesse when he was within a few paces. He held his hands up in a passive gesture.

"But, you cared for our child, right?"

"When I could bare to look at it," she said, taking a step back, looking over at Deen to keep track of him. "It was just a reminder of how I had lost everything."

"A baby, Vivian," Jesse said, barely above a whisper, "can't do anything wrong. Blame me all you want, I will accept it. But a child," Jesse trailed off, his face held a pained expression and Deen frowned deeply. "Your father sent assassins after me. Does he believe that my death will redeem your honor?"

Deen's lips parted in surprise. He hoped Jesse wasn't offering what he thought he was. This wasn't an outcome they'd discussed.

"No, I sent those assassins because I was- because I _am_ angry. You've ruined me," she raised her voice. When Deen sighed, she turned to look at him and Jesse swooped in, taking her wrist in one hand, and the hilt of the knife in the other. He wrenched it from her grip and threw it to the ground. She shoved at him when he wrapped his arms around her.

"You aren't ruined, Vivian," Jesse muttered into her hair. "Your life is yours to do whatever you want with." He pushed her back to arms' length and took her slender wrists in his hands. "You don't need your family, or money. You're a smart girl who apparently knows how to use a knife. You can get by on your own," he promised. "If they are going to treat you like garbage from the result of a moment of passion when we were children, then they don't deserve _you_ , not the other way around." Both Vivian and Deen were struck by Jesse's way with words. The older man sheathed his sword and crossed his arms. He never took his eye off the woman, even though he felt like this should be a private moment. "Come with us. I'll set you up with some training. You can learn a skill. I already know you can read and write, that's a brilliant head start on most women. Hell, on most men." He gave her arms a little shake, hard enough to maintain her attention, but not hard enough to cause her any pain. Tears welled up in her eyes, regardless.

There came a feminine gasp from the rear entrance to the room and everyone looked over. A maid with brilliant copper hair up in a high bun held her hands in tiny fists by her chest. She looked terrified.

"Milady, should I call for help?" she asked, backing up toward the doorway.

"No," Vivian said, shaking her head. "No, he won't hurt me, Tamia. Please, just," she trailed off for a moment, pulling weakly at Jesse's grip. The blonde let her go. He kicked the knife away as Vivian turned toward her maid. "Bring more tea, if you would."

"A-as you command, ma'am," she said, ducking from the room.

She looked familiar to Deen, like she could have been the sister of the assassin that tried to poison Jesse. He would have thought them the same person had the maid not been so much shorter.

Jesse and Vivian sat at the table, her head lowered as she fought off tears. Deen remained standing.

"Do you really think I could start over?" she asked.

"Yes, Vivian. It's never too late. I'm founding my own country, and there will always be work available there."

"I have no skills other than reading and writing," she admitted.

"You can always work in the government. You kind of need to be able to read and write for that," Jesse said with a laugh. Deen's lip curled away from his teeth. That was an idea he didn't like.

"What of us? You will be king, will you not? Should I be your queen?" she asked, turning a sad but hopeful glance up at Jesse, who gave an awkward smile in return.

"Well, I don't know about all that. I'm not sure I'm going to have that kind of government. I was thinking that it would be run by more of a counsel than a king. I mean, I'd head the counsel, of course, but the decisions wouldn't all be made by me alone. And," he drew out the word a bit, trying not to grimace, "I think our time has passed, Vivian. I did care for you when we were children. I still care for you now," he assured her. "I'm just... not really looking for a queen- er, a Mrs. Counsel Head. At least, not at the moment."

"Oh, I see," she said, sadly. She thanked her maid when tea was placed in front of her, and Jesse did the same. Deen waved off the offer, but gave a slight nod of his head in thanks. "Still, if I were to go with you, you would take care of me until I can take care of myself?"

"Sure thing, Viv," Jesse said, smiling softly. He made a crack about the comically small teacups, picking it up and showing her just how small it was in his hands. She managed to crack a smile. "Look," he started again, "I still intend to pay you back for the medicine, so there's-"

"No," Vivian interrupted. Both Deen and Jesse cocked their heads. "I had father rob your family of their house. That more than covered the cost of the medicine. Aunt Juels could afford another batch, so she came to no harm. That matter is settled."

"Well, in that case, maybe we should get a move on? My friends are already waiting for me in our new land. They've probably already gotten word of the new borders, so there is much work to be done." Vivian remained silent for a long moment, which had Deen gritting his teeth.

"Will you give me one day to think on it?" she asked.

"Of course. It is a big change, to go from being a caged bird to a free one. If you desire to remain in the comfortable cage, I will not hold it against you, eh, should you stop sending assassins after me, of course." He gave a charming smile and Vivian laughed. Then tears poured over her cheeks. She apologized profusely, begging his forgiveness which he readily gave. "I'll be waiting at the Cavern Inn on the east end. If you aren't there by the morning after the next, I'll assume you've decided to stay." He reached out and patted her arm carefully before he stood. "I truly am sorry for any pain I've caused you. Take care of yourself."

Jesse headed for the door and Deen followed, his gaze lingering on Vivian until it could no more.

Once in their room, Jesse shrugged off his shoulder guards and rid himself of his sword, resting it against the table in the room.

"It's over," he said. He looked happy, though it was a more muted sort of happiness than Deen was used to from the younger swordsman. Deen grunted. "What?" Jesse asked, unzipping his shirt and shedding it.

"I wouldn't be so sure of that," Deen said. "She just gave in so easily. Too easily." Jesse chuckled.

"You must not have much experience with women, my friend." Deen huffed and leaned his head back, staring down at the blonde through his hair when the other turned to look at him. "It is easy for a woman to be angry when there is distance between herself and someone who has wronged her, but when that someone honestly apologizes to her face, she will soften."

"Do you really intend to bring her with you?" Deen asked. "I don't trust her."

Jesse cracked a brilliant grin. "Ah, afraid she'll steal me away from you?" he teased.

"Yes," Deen said, watching intently as Jesse's smug look faded to one of surprise, "with a blade in your back."

"You worry too much," Jesse said, approaching Deen. He reached for the clasps of Deen's armor to start removing it.

"I worry an appropriate amount when my closest friend invites a woman who has been trying to kill him for months to come live with him," Deen said, flexing fingers causing his gloves to creak, not used to someone else removing his armor. Jesse had both of the shoulder guards off without responding, so Deen asked a question to break the growing tension he thought only he felt; "How is your leg?"

"It's doing quite well," Jesse said, looking up with a smile as Deen's chest plate came loose. He sat it on the floor then took up a perch on the end of the bed, seemingly sensing Deen's discomfort, starting on his own boots. "A couple of nasty scabs will have to come off soon, but after that it will be little more than a scar with a story any potential partner might delight in." Deen grunted and backed away, needing some distance between himself and the blonde. He took off his gloves, tossing them over the rest of his armor. His mind reeled, but he refused to grind his teeth or scratch at his scar. "I'm sure the ladies love your scars," Jesse said with a suggestive wiggle of his brow. Deen frowned, turning away. "No?" Jesse lilted, wiggling his toes, delighted to have them free of his boots.

"No. The only comment I've gotten on it since it healed was from a scared child. I had to stop her mother from striking her over it. People look at it with pity or disgust. No one finds it attractive."

"I do," Jesse said, shrugging. "But, maybe I'm weird. Anyway, if you'll see me to Greith's old land, I'm sure someone who has come to set up shop in my land will also find it so." He waited a beat, looking at Deen's back. "You'll see me that far, won't you?"

"I don't plan on leaving until I'm sure this Vivian won't kill you in your sleep," Deen said, bringing a hand to his face to scratch at his scar. He heard Jesse move, but didn't turn around. He made a fist and closed his eye when Jesse took his wrist and pulled it away from his face.

"I think you may be with me for some time, then," Jesse said cheerfully. He held Deen's wrist until his fist relaxed. "Come, let's get some sleep. It has been a long many weeks." The older man went willingly, laying his sword on the bed next to him as he always did. Jesse curled up against his back.

They fell asleep quickly.

The next evening, the two found Vivian waiting for them in the tavern attached to their inn. She sat, a small bag on the table in front of her. When Jesse waved to her, she stood and gave a curtsy.

"This is my simplest dress," she said, holding out the bottom. It was long and dark brown, with gold trim about the ends of the sleeves and the skirt. "I hope it will do for now." When Jesse gave an affirmative answer, she continued; "father gave me a handful of coins and a few things before telling me not to come crawling back to him should I fail on my little adventure. I pray you know what you're doing."

"Things always work out in the end," Jesse promised, beaming. Vivian smiled in response.

Deen did not like the way she smiled.


	11. Chapter 11

Jesse couldn't be happier. His closest friend had stayed with him upon his return, his ex was no longer trying to kill him, his other friends were relieved to see him back and had immediately thrust paperwork into his hands. Kamui was more than relieved to be able to do something other than sit at a table with Saber and attend to legal matters all day. The redhead also jumped at the chance to leave the citadel, and took a crew with him to start establishing the commercial district.

Their land would be a modest one, only twice the size of the new capital of Valentia for their entire country. However, it sat on the bank of the east ocean facing Archinea, from which they'd surely have a steady stream of clientele, as well as from the icy countries further north.

There is always work to be done, especially when Jesse is determined to see to Vivian becoming self-suficient. After hours of paperwork, he trains her with a sword as Deen hovers around the edge of their little training grounds. He shows her how to cook a few simple meals, like stews and breads, and she finds that she rather enjoys cooking. The purple haired man watches her like a hawk then because, even though she wears no rings, seemingly has nowhere to hide a poison, he still doesn't trust her not to make an attempt. He never eats anything she makes. She's mildly offended, but he can't find it within himself to care.

Deen wakes one night, sweating and breathing harshly. He sits up, but quickly stills himself, expecting to have disturbed his blonde companion. Then he remembers just how large the citadel had been, how they all have their own rooms. The bed feels too big, too strange, and he can't quite draw breath right. It feels like his very lungs are denying it entry. As if they'd slammed stone doors closed tight, and they sit just as heavily in his chest.

He stands and sheds his leather shirt, wrapping his arms around his middle. His thin cotton buttondown is drowned in sweat and feels too tight, too much pressure on his skin, but he intends to leave his room, so he must maintain his modesty. He does, however, unbutton it at the neck, hoping it will allow him to draw breath easier. It doesn't. He hastily throws his belt on, missing some of the loops, and thrusts his sword into it's rightful place at his hip.

Deen opens the door a bit too hard in his haste, the wood banging on the stone wall, the rusted hinges squealing. He grits his teeth against the sound, baring them to the thankfully barren hall. He leaves the door open, momentarily unconcerned about the coin he left in the dresser, needing more than anything to pace, to get some air.

The wing of the citadel Deen stalked had fourteen rooms made for sleeping and storage, but only six of them were occupied. Jesse, Saber, and Kamui took up rooms there, as well as two other men they had brought along that Deen didn't know. Luckily for the swordsman, Vivian had been designated to the opposite wing of sleeping rooms. For her modesty, Jesse had claimed. Deen's fingers twitched, so he scratched them along the grout in the wall as he walked to resist tearing at his eye.

He eventually wandered by a section of rooms he knew to be over the dungeons. These used to be Greith's second study and the quarters of the wait staff. He could remember hearing the howling from the dungeons and how Greith had delighted in it, and snarled. His finger tips were raw from how he'd been dragging them across the stone, but he continued to upon noticing a light in the study. He decided to move on, walking across the way, ignoring the footsteps behind him as he did so. Surely the figure had been running figures or processing requests from new citizens and would be turning in for the night, leaving the seething purple shadow alone if they noticed him at all. Deen would have no such luck.

"Deen!" Jesse called out and the older man stopped in his tracks. He clenched both fists and groaned internally. The corridor narrowed with every step closer the blonde took. "Good evening, my friend," he greeted. "It is awfully late for you to be taking a stroll." After his initial greeting, Jesse's voice softened. "Can't sleep?" he asked.

"No," Deen bit out. Jesse stepped into his line of sight and offered up a smile, hands on his hips and without his shoulder guards. He looked exhausted, but happy.

"In that case, you could walk me back to my quarters. Unless you'd like something to eat. I'm sure-"

"No," Deen interrupted. "I am not hungry," he forced out, trying to uncurl his fists.

"Alright, then," Jesse said, his smile taking on an awkward edge. It then brightened, as if he'd remembered something. "Then will you walk me to my room, my friend?" He held out his hand as if to take Deen's wrist, but the purple haired man snatched it away and turned to head in the direction of Jesse's living space. The blonde fell into step alongside him. "Say, have you been noticing Vivian's stance during practice? She's improving greatly." Deen growled lowly from behind clenched teeth. Jesse still heard the muted sound. "You still don't trust her, huh? It has been quite some time."

"A month is hardly 'quite some time'," Deen snapped. Jesse sighed.

"Well, if it makes you happy not to trust anyone, then by all means," Jesse offered, laughing a bit to himself.

"I trust," and Deen trailed off, forcing a deep breath into his lungs that he figured must have turned to stone. "I trust a few people."

"Oh yeah?" Jesse asked, a teasing lilt to his voice.

"Celica, you," he listed. "Perhaps Saber and Kamui."

They had already passed Deen and Kamui's lodgings, were growing closer to the door to Jesse's. The blonde finally took a good look at Jesse, delighted that the other had shed his hide shirt, overjoyed that Deen would admit to trusting him. He would have taken the time to admire the sight of the exposed, slender neck and clavicle had he not been concerned over the way his companion was breathing.

"Why don't you come in for a few minutes? Kamui made some tea, and it's surprisingly good. You should have a cup." Deen merely grunted, but entered the room when Jesse motioned him in, holding the door open. The blonde sat about reheating the tea over the embers that glowed in the fireplace. "Oh, it's so nice to have this," he said, motioning to the fireplace with the fire iron he'd been using to turn the wood and bring the fire back to life. "There's another room with one, if you'd like it, but you seem to run hot, so maybe that's not something you need, huh?" Deen didn't answer, bringing his fingers to his face. One of his nails was broken from clawing at the walls and tore his skin on it's first pass. "Well, it'll be a few minutes until-" Jesse's mouth fell open at the blood on Deen's face.

As he took a step toward the other, Deen took a step back. Jesse continued to advance and Deen retreated until the back of the taller man's knees hit the edge of the bed. A short, sharp inhale passed Deen's lips and he fell to a seated position, Jesse taking a knee in front of him. He turned his head away when Jesse reached up.

"Hey," Jesse said softly, "you're alright." He gently took Deen's hand and held it in his own. "Why you gotta go and scratch up your handsome face, huh? Let me get you cleaned up." He eased Deen's hand down into his lap and stood, looking for supplies with which to clean the scratch. He found a scrap of fabric he could use and poured some clean water he kept beside his bed over it. Deen hissed when he dabbed the wound, but relented to being cleaned. "There ya go," Jesse said, tossing the cloth aside. "Now," he said, once more kneeling before Deen, "what's got you so stressed out, my friend?"

Deen couldn't look at Jesse. Instead, he stared off over the toned shoulder. "Nightmares," Deen spat.

"Oh?" Jesse asked. "I've had a few myself since we've been here. Would you care to talk about yours?" Deen's knees pressed together when Jesse rested a hand on one of them, so the blonde pulled back and got to his feet, giving the other a bit of space. He sat next to the older man, but did not touch him.

"I see my father," Deen said, regretting letting the words slip. He closed his eye tight and snapped his teeth firmly. It was even harder to breathe through his nose.

"Go on," Jesse offered.

"Forget it," Deen said, not opening his eye.

"Now, my dear friend, if it does this to you, you should talk to someone about it or it'll only continue to afflict you with this terror." Deen said nothing, so Jesse continued; "Breathe, Deen," he said firmly.

Deen wanted to shout that he was trying, but he wasn't the shouting type, so he gave a minute shake of his head. His teeth parted for a ragged gasp when Jesse wrapped an arm around his front. The room spun as he fell back to the bed, Jesse wrapped halfway around him, his chest to Deen's sweating back. He felt tacky, didn't want to stain his friend's shirt but couldn't make the words to warn the other. He clawed at Jesse's hand over his chest, but the blonde was relentless.

"Breathe, Deen. Like this," he said, drawing in a deep breath, letting his chest rise and press against Deen's back. He let out the breath, purposefully ruffling Deen's hair with it. "Just breathe," Jesse whispered, letting Deen hear and feel him doing exactly what he was commanding of him. "In," he started, eyes closed, drawing a deep breath. He would have appreciated the older man's musky scent in any other situation. Would have loved to bury his face in the sweaty neck and greedily fill his nostrils with the masculine smell, but at that moment could only worry. "Then out," he finished, letting out the air against Deen's neck.

Deen stopped clawing at Jesse's hand, eventually threading his slender fingers through the other's. He held tight as he tried to make his breath match the blonde's.

"Good, good," Jesse cooed. "Keep breathing. Don't think about anything else." Jesse let his head come to rest against the sweat slick skin, just breathing.

"Gods," came Deen's embarrassed gasp several minutes later, once he had managed to match Jesse's pace. He gave a little laugh of disbelief, sinking into the shorter man's embrace. "Forgive me," he muttered, considering pulling away. He was too warm, entirely uncomfortable. Jesse had started sweating too, the warmth of the fire and Deen's overheated body getting to him.

"You've done nothing that needs forgiving, my friend," Jesse said, gently rubbing up and down the other's chest once his hand was released. Deen ran his fingers through his hair, letting it fall back in his face afterward.

"Oh, but I have," Deen said. "I wouldn't be having these- panics, had I not."

"Then tell me," Jesse offered. "You know my story now. We were supposed to trade stories, were we not?" The blonde gave a small chuckle against the back of Deen's neck.

"When I offered, I hadn't thought we'd become friends," Deen admitted.

"Well, if you're looking to protect me from your past, I wish you wouldn't. You've already saved me from mine. The least I could do is assuage your guilt of your own."

Deen sighed. He had missed having the blonde curl up against him as he did in their travels, the muscular form chasing away his night terrors with his childish clinging. He wanted to enjoy the other's presence for a moment longer, but he'd never been one for delaying the inevitable. He decided he'd mourn the loss of a close and physical friendship later.

"No one could alleviate my guilt, but we made a deal," he started, awkwardly looking for a place to rest his hand. Jesse took it and brought it back to the older man's chest, lacing their fingers once more. "Many years ago, when Greith first rose to power, he had convinced my father and I that we were both traitors. He turned us against one another.

"We wound up at each other's throats, accusing each other of treason. Being young and foolish, I drew my blade first. We fought it out, and I was victorious in the end only to find I'd slain an innocent man, my own blood who asked me to continue to serve with his dying breath." Deen's breath grew rough again, and Jesse reminded him to breathe. "Grieth took my eye for what he claimed were my father's misdeeds, though I'd found solid proof that he'd done nothing wrong. He intended to punish me for the crimes he falsified against my father in hopes of securing my allegiance through fear. I only stayed because my father had asked me to, having bought into the propaganda the man spewed.

"Once I saw the effort he had gone through to end us, and what my father had uncovered about corruption amongst Greith's closest allies - information that he intended to turn over to the man to protect him - I had no intention of killing in that man's name. I-" he drew in a breath, licking his teeth once to prevent clenching them against the admission, "-was ready to let Celica end me, should she have come north instead."

"Gods," Jesse breathed against Deen's neck, burying his face in the other's hair. "I'm so glad we went south," he muttered.

"Some days, I wish Celica had not made that decision," Deen admitted. Jesse's arm tightened around Deen, who gasped through a thin gap between his teeth.

"Please don't say that," Jesse begged.

"You asked to hear it, you should hear it all," Deen said quietly, curling his fingers around Jesse's hand. "I only meant that I wished Sonya had not perished that day. She, as well, had a past she was hoping to abandon, and hated Greith as much as I did. Mere days before Celica made her march through the land, we had met in private, and I had turned over my father's findings to her. We were certain we could have made Greith abandon all of his most trusted allies and take over his command when the man tried to maintain control on his own.

"Though, I suppose Celica gave him what he deserved in the end. I only wish that less people had lost their lives, that I had done more to prevent... everything."

"You're only one man, Deen," Jesse said. "When someone has such a firm hold over a mass of people, one can not do much alone." Deen gave only a deep hum in response. He took a few more deep breaths, listening to the blonde breathing against his ear before he disentangled himself from the other.

"Forgive me for ruining your evening," he said, throwing his legs over the side of the bed to sit up. He fixed his sword so that it would lay properly and not poke anyone, as it had surely been doing to Jesse when the other had been wrapped around him.

"You haven't ruined anything," Jesse said. He got up and poured them tea over sugar cubes in cups appropriately sized for them. "I appreciate you sharing with me, and I wish I had words of wisdom for you. Or," he amended, "at least something that would make you feel better, but I fear I'm at a loss for words."

"For once," Deen joked, and thanked Jesse as he was handed his cup.

"Hey!" Jesse whined, sitting at the corner of the bed with one leg curled up on it so he could face Deen. The older man managed a small smile and Jesse returned the gesture. "I know you said no one could rid you of the guilt you feel, but I want you to know that you've done so much good in the world since then, and there are at least two beings in this world who forgive you for being fooled."

"Two?" Deen asked.

"Mila, of course, and myself," Jesse offered, resting his tea on his knee. "I didn't know her, so maybe I've no right to speculate, but I'm sure Sonya forgives you, as well. She'd be in the same position that you're in right now, had we headed north instead."

"Thank you," Deen muttered.

"I mean it," Jesse said, reaching out to push Deen's hair from his face, uncovering his scar, the new scratch, and his eye. His pupil was dilated, scanning Jesse's face for his intent. "But I don't want to hear any more talk of you wishing your life was ended instead. You're my best friend, and I'll not have you dying on me. Understand?" Deen gave a quirk of his lips and a minute chuckle in answer, and Jesse started to play with the purple hair, seeing if he could get it to lay away from his face. "And maybe you should cut your hair," he suggested, "so more people could see your handsome face and fall in love with it."

Deen's smirk faded and he took Jesse's hand, pulling it away from his hair. He released the other when he brought his limb back into his own personal space.

"That isn't something I feel I deserve just yet," Deen said. "But, thank you."

"I think you do," Jesse said, holding out a hand for Deen's empty cup, which he was promptly given, "but you should at least be comfortable with yourself before you try to love another." He put the cups on a dresser.

"Is that why you love everyone you meet?" Deen teased. Jesse's surprised laugh had them both laughing. After a moment of comfortable silence, the blonde tidying up his room and the older man simply sitting there, Deen spoke again; "I've kept you from sleeping long enough. Thank you, my friend."

"Hey," Jesse said, turning. "It's never a problem. I'm glad you shared with me." He stepped in Deen's path as the man had started for the doorway. "And, to be honest, I've been having a difficult time sleeping myself without anyone else in my bed. Without someone I trust, I, too, fall prey to nightmares. If you'd like, it wouldn't bother me any if you slept here tonight."

"Very well," Deen said. He shook his head and removed his belt and sheath. He sat back on the bed, silently thankful for the offer. He'd been wondering if he would have made the walk back to his room, exhaustion having kicked in over half an hour ago when Jesse had taught him to breathe again.

His chest still felt weighted, but at least the stone doors had parted enough for him to breathe with no tremendous effort.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure I'm happy with what I've done with Deen's backstory. Let me know how you feel about it, and if there's anything you think I can do to improve it.


	12. Chapter 12

As the city fills and expands, people who meet with Jesse assume Deen is his bodyguard. Neither of them corrects anyone.

The city around the citadel thrives, merchants of all types flooding in, excited to participate in a new market. Retired mercenaries sell weapons, trail rations and trade secrets. Clothiers sell garments with hidden pockets, outfits made for concealing one's identity or drawing the eye exactly where they want it. Street vendors sell hot foods that warm the very soul in the slight chill that hovers over the land just outside the city, the crowds of people heating the streets but still are delighted to have hot foods in their bellies. Bars and taverns are filled to the brim with joyous patrons and job seekers every night, and that's where Jesse and Deen find themselves when the blonde finally finishes all of his paperwork and Vivian is busy learning a recipe from the cook for the most popular food cart.

Deen still watches every woman who takes an interest in Jesse like a hawk. The men receive even more scrutiny, which is something he doesn't want to examine too closely.

A strawberry blonde with a healing split lip runs her finger along the rim of Jesse's glass in an effort to be seductive, and Deen wants to jump to his feet, but he doesn't. The blonde puts his arm around her shoulders, offering her a sip of his beverage, which she takes, so it couldn't have been poisoned. She still makes Deen nervous, but he felt a strange sort of pride toward Jesse for having the woman sip from his glass after she had touched it.

When the pair make for the stairs, Deen is on his feet, following them before his mind catches up with his body. When Jesse notices the older man, he asks the woman to give him a moment.

"Deen, my friend," he greets, an eager smile on his face. "What can I do for you? If it can be quick, I would appreciate it." He gives a suggestive wriggle of his brow and nods toward the young woman.

"Are you really certain this is an activity you should be engaging in when we are not yet sure of Vivian's intentions yet?"

"Vivian has nothing to do with this, Deen," Jesse said, leaning in. "Vivian is learning a new recipe right now, one that you and I both like, and has not the ability to meet with an assassin should she still want to at this point."

"She has access to many," Deen countered. "Even those we pay to cook for us were likely assassins at some point in time. She could be learning to poison you at this very moment." Jesse frowned.

"I really think you're overreacting, my friend. I mean, it doesn't matter to me if you want to, say, watch us to make sure she doesn't try anything," he offered, a cheeky grin and a hint of pink over the bridge of his nose, "but I am certain, this time, that I will come to no harm."

"If you've baser needs," Deen started, turning his head away, a blush rising to his cheeks at the words he couldn't believe he was about to utter, in public, no less, "I will offer my own body for the time being."

Jesse looked away then, his grin falling from his face. His hand wandered up into his hair and he scratched at the back of his head anxiously. "Ah, Deen," he said, shifting uncomfortably, "that's mighty kind of you, but I couldn't do something like that to you. You never struck me as the type to be into, ya know, that particular breed of comfort. If you wouldn't enjoy it," the blonde muttered, trying to figure out how to continue, "I just- couldn't."

The air in the tavern seemed to be growing thin. Deen struggled to draw breath for what he said.

"Maybe if you wouldn't do things to women that you wouldn't do to friends, you wouldn't have gotten into such a mess." Regret flavored bile burned his throat, but he turned on his heel. He would stand by his words, no matter how much they hurt.

Jesse had been about to argue, about to explain that it wasn't just about chasing his own pleasure, but the older man was already leaving. Quickly, too. For a moment, he considered just letting Deen go and going upstairs with the woman who was waiting for him, but that thought was quickly abandoned and he turned to her to apologize. She rolled her eyes and waved him off, walking back into the bar as Jesse took off out the door.

He chased Deen to the citadel, but lost him amongst the corridors. He checked Deen's room, but the man either wasn't there, or wouldn't respond to his knocking. He lay his forehead against the door for a moment, sighing heavily. He thought he might go back to the bar and just drink himself stupid, but he didn't feel like making the walk after having chased his friend.

He turned in instead, thinking about Deen's offer as he saw to his needs with his own hand.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Had to up the rating, porn happened.

Deen apologized to Jesse first thing in the morning, but the blonde waved him off with a big smile. The purple haired swordsman tried to return the gesture, but the falseness of the smile on Jesse's face rendered him incapable. He wished for the words to fix the hurt he'd caused, but he had nothing, so he kept watch over the blonde from a distance.

He watched as Jesse trained Vivian to exhaustion, not giving in until she threw her sword aside in disgust.

"We've done the same drill eleven times now. Ten, I could handle," she complained, throwing her small hands in the air. "If we had moved on afterward, I would have been fine, but your mind is elsewhere and not on my training."

Deen watched and listened from the shadow of the citadel's outdoor hall not far away.

"Something has happened between you and your bodyguard, hasn't it?" she demanded, hands on her hips.

Deen remembered how she'd lamented wearing coveralls when she'd first been handed them. Now she wore them like a second skin.

"Oh, Viv, it was just a little spat," Jesse said, wiping the sweat from his brow. "We'll be fine in a few days. We just need some time to cool down."

"Speaking of time to cool down," she said, taking the ribbon from her hair only to retie it higher up to keep it off of her neck, "we should take a break. I am exhausted, so you should bring me some tea."

"Oh, I should, should I?" he asked with a laugh. "Well, if you put up your practice sword and make me some kebabs, I could probably be swayed to make some tea. Perhaps I could even saute some onions and peppers to go with the kebabs." He raised a brow.

Vivian picked up her sword and gave the blonde a look of disgust. "Ugh," she said, "onions? No thank you. Peppers I like, but onions make anyone who eats them unkissable. I don't know about you, but I do not want to be unkissable."

"I'm sure you could find a handsome young mercenary around here who would love a wife whose breath smelled of onions," Jesse said, an easiness to his voice that tore at Deen's heart.

"Gods, no. Anyone who would like the smell of onions on a young lady's breath surely has no class," she said as she slid the dulled sword into a stand alongside others.

"Hey," Jesse whined, laughing under his breath.

"Well!" Vivian said, putting her hand to her chest. "If you like the smell of onions on the breath, then I supose I shall be relieved that you said our time has passed, because I will not tolerate it! I wouldn't be able to stand the smell of my own breath, even for you."

"Not even for me?" Jesse asked, turning his head down to look up at her through his lashes. He batted his eyes playfully and Vivian pushed him away with her hand on his face.

"Not if you were the last man in Valentia," she said, turning her nose up. "Peppers, though, I will eat those. They taste good the way you make them and don't leave a foul odor. So, chop chop!" Jesse scoffed at her orders, but put his practice sword up alongside hers.

The two made dinner together and Deen hovered, in the room over, reading. It was a book he'd required from Saber, and the man had such a grin on his face when he'd handed it over that he almost expected to open it and have some sort of prank blow up in his face or ink spill on his pants. What he could gather from the text - when he wasn't eavesdropping, much to his shame - was that it appeared to be something of a romance between two men. The redhead's words echoed in his mind as he closed the book, having no desire to continue where the men lay in a barn, removing each other's trousers,

"If you ever need any help fixing any problems between you and Jesse, I have the feeling this might help you out."

Deen made a disgusted noise out loud, trying to rid his mind of thoughts of himself and Jesse in the character's places. He wouldn't ruin his longest friendship since he reached adulthood over physical desires, he told himself. His own, anyway. Jesse's were a different matter, which could be seen to once he was certain Vivian would no longer give them trouble. With a great sigh, he resigned himself to getting to know the young woman so he could put his suspicions to rest.

When Jesse came through the door with two steaming plates on his arm, Deen thought he could put off starting the process until the next day. He tucked the book into his pocket quickly so the other wouldn't see it.

"I thought you might be nearby," Jesse said, grinning at him. He sat the plates on the table, followed shortly by a bottle of wine and two long-stemmed glasses.

"Shall I leave?" Deen asked, standing. Jesse's hand on his shoulder bid him sit, so he did.

"No, my friend, I was looking for you. This food is for us." He pulled out the chair next to Deen's and sat. "Vivian ran off with hers, eating it as she walked. I tell you, her manners regarding food were the first thing to go when she left high society." Deen looked down at the dish in front of him and considered it for a long moment. "I was with her the entire time. I saw exactly what she put in the food," Jesse soothed.

"I believe you," Deen said, reaching out for one of the skewers of meat. Jesse blinked in surprise as the purple haired swordsman took a bite of the meat, pulling one piece off the pick and into his mouth. After swallowing, Deen commented, "not half bad." Jesse smiled and poured them wine before tucking into his own food.

"I'm kind of surprised that you're eating Vivian's food," the blonde admitted.

Deen sighed before he responded, "I figured I should attempt to get to know the woman so I can put my suspicions to rest. I don't want my," he stopped to take a sip of his drink to allow him a moment to think of how to phrase what he wanted to say, "protective nature to put a strain on our friendship."

"Ah," Jesse said, patting Deen's arm once he put his glass down, "I know you're just looking out for me. Though," he started, drawing out the word, "I did want to talk to you again about last night now that we've both had some time to let the situation sink in."

"I apologize, I-"

"Let me say something first," Jesse asked. Deen closed his mouth around a slice of bell pepper in answer, looking at the other to continue. "There was something I wanted to say when you walked away from me last night." The blonde didn't look away, didn't blush. He didn't shy away from his next words. "You can think what you may about my habits, but it isn't just about chasing pleasure. Not for me." He shook his head, but soon made eye contact again. "It's about the intimacy of the act. Intimacy is something I crave. Like a drunkard craves booze, I need to be close to people. It gets," and that was when Jesse looked away, "unbearable at times." He then laughed and looked up at Deen, honey eyes sparkling. "Why do you think I slept so well whenever we shared a bed, eh?" He took a bite from one of his skewers, giving Deen a chance to respond if he wanted to. When he said nothing, Jesse continued; "but I do have needs of a sexual nature, of course. If your offer still stands, and it was something you've given thought to and wasn't something you said because it was the only thing you could think of to keep me from going off with Sharon, I'd like to take you up on it."

"I am a man of my word," Deen said. He could feel a tingling behind his eyes as his face colored.

"I won't force you to keep it, or hold it against you if you've no desire to. But, should that be something you'd find enjoyable- or at the least bearable, I'll be in my room." He stood, taking their plates. Deen opened his mouth, but the blonde held out a hand. "Don't answer me now. Think on it first. I promise I won't hold it against you if you decide you don't want to."

Jesse walked away with their dishes, leaving Deen stunned. He swallowed thickly, facing down feelings he had no desire to give more than a passing glance to. He retired to his room to think on the matter as the blonde had asked, even though he already knew he would go to Jesse's room that night. He read further in the book he was gifted, looking for ideas, looking for clues as to what to brace himself for.

A few hours later, when the sun dipped below the horizon, Deen knocked on Jesse's door. He left his armor, gloves, and hide in his room, but brought his sword, unused to going anywhere without it. Jesse cracked the door slightly and peered out at him.

"Hey," the blonde greeted as he opened the door, his voice low and smooth.

"Hello," Deen offered a greeting in return, locking the door behind him. He turned to find Jesse sitting on the end of the bed, wearing only thin cotton pants.

"Where did you want to-" Jesse gasped when Deen took a knee in front of him, his hands stroking along the inside of his thighs. "O-OK," the blonde said, his legs spreading at the pressure of the older man's hands. He leaned back on his arms, watching the other and the look of determination on his features. He pushed his hips forward, giving a slight "mnh" at the feeling of Deen's slender fingers sliding over his filling length on the outside of his pants.

Jesse reached out with one hand, sliding his palm up the other's forearm to his elbow. Deen barely managed to suppress a shiver, almost overwhelmed by how much he wanted to feel the blonde's skin on his own, but his long-sleeved shirt prevented that. He was tempted to remove it, to allow the other whatever access he wanted, but he told himself what he was doing was for Jesse and pressed on, mouthing at the inside of a knee.

He swiftly untied the fasteners of Jesse's pants, sliding them down over his hips. His mouth watered when Jesse arched his back to lift himself from the bed so Deen could pull his pants off.

"Knew you had some experience takin' off guys' pants," Jesse teased. Deen nipped the inside of one thickly muscled thigh in retaliation. "Gods," Jesse gasped, his head falling back. The younger man whined as Deen kissed up the inside of that thigh and down the other, paying particular attention to the scar he'd recently acquired. He cupped the back of the thigh, drawing his fingers over the other side of the old injury much too tenderly, kissing the front scar entirely too sweetly. He looked up to find Jesse watching him with an almost pained expression on his face. "Told you it was healing just fine," he tried to joke, laughing lowly. The longer they maintained eye contact, the more he lost his nerve, so Deen closed his eye and moved on.

Jesse let his hand come to rest on the back of Deen's head when the older man nuzzled his length through his smallclothes, biting back a curse as those thin lips parted to press around it through the cotton. Jesse threaded his fingers in Deen's hair when the man reached up to free his length from it's cloth prison. Normally sure hands trembled, one in soft locks, the other in the blankets, while Deen hesitated, his face heated and pupil dilated.

"You don't have to," Jesse reminded him.

"I know," Deen said, his breath ghosting over Jesse's prick as he spoke. It throbbed in response and, on a whim, Deen blew on the tip. He told himself he shouldn't have, but he took a great deal of satisfaction in the way the blonde whimpered. He strained against the front of his own pants, but ignored his own want, finally taking the blonde in his mouth.

Jesse howled, cupping Deen's head, his body tensing as he fought the desire to thrust. The muscles under his hands hardened as Jesse flexed his thighs, forcing himself to stay still, and Deen found himself unable to stop the small, near-inaudible moan that worked it's way up his throat.

"Gods, Deen," Jesse called when the older man tried to take more than just the head, tried to use his tongue. He worried about his teeth as Jesse gave his head the slightest push, letting the turgid prick further into his mouth. "Oh," Jesse breathed, rocking his hips slightly. Deen could take maybe three inches before his gag-reflex was triggered, and his partner had noticed as much, rocking only that much in and out of the other's mouth. "Is this alright?" he asked, petting Deen's hair with a trembling hand.

Deen moaned an affirmative, unable to stop his hips from pressing forward just once, seeking some sort of pressure on his own aching desire.

"Deen," Jesse cried again, "this feels so good, f-" he cut himself off, drawing his lower lip into his mouth. He worried it as he rocked into the hot mouth, watching through lidded eyes as spit spilled from the corners of Deen's mouth, that the older man tried to suck up and failed, only adding more pressure to the oversensitive head of his cock. "Hey, hey," he warned, giving a gentle tug to the locks he loved touching so much.

Deen looked up, confused, eye hazy and licking his lips when Jesse's length popped free of his mouth. When he parted his lips to take it once more, whining low in his throat at tug of the blonde's fingers in his hair preventing him from moving forward again, Jesse's length jumped, painting Deen's lips with the first string of his seed. Jesse cursed and took hold of his length with his other hand, angling it toward his own stomach. He made a series of noises that went straight to Deen's cock as he came.

The older man laid his cheek against Jesse's thigh as the blonde caught his breath, his muscled abdomen heaving with the effort, his seed trailing between the cuts of his muscles and through fine blonde curls.

"Gods, Deen," he breathed, and resumed petting the purple locks. He pushed the other's hair out of his face and urged him to lean back. "Thank you," he said, smiling tiredly. Deen couldn't give an eloquent response, just made a sound in his throat as Jesse ran his fingers through his hair a few more times. Finally, the blonde groaned and gave up on holding himself up, flopping back on the bed. "I wasn't expecting that," he admitted with a little laugh. "Gods, Deen," he said once more.

With Jesse no longer looking at him, Deen brought his thumb to his lips and, not knowing what possessed him to do so, pushed what remained of Jesse's seed on his lips into his mouth. It wasn't the most foul thing he'd ever tasted, but he pulled a face at the bitterness. Deen's arousal throbbed painfully when he looked up to see the younger man swiping his fingers through his semen, gathering it up and bringing it to his own lips. He almost cursed out loud watching Jesse cleaning himself in such a lewd way. Jesse laughed when he realized Deen was staring.

"Hey, it's easier than getting up," he said. "C'mon up here," he insisted, scooting up to the head of the bed.

"You'd rather I stay?" Deen asked, not wanting to get up, not wanting Jesse to see how he'd been affected by what they'd done. "I thought you might want to sleep."

"Well, yeah, I want to sleep, but you can't skip the most important part," Jesse said, giving a shake of his head and a broad but loopy grin.

"That being?" Deen asked, his voice lower than it's usual pleasing baritone with the way his mouth had been used.

When he didn't join the other, Jesse sat up. He reached over and hooked his hands under Deen's arms, hauling the slender man up onto the bed. Deen didn't know why he was surprised by the strength in the compact body, but he was, especially as the blonde pulled him up the bed and deposited him on the empty side. He rid Deen of his shoes, tossing them wherever they landed, the purple haired man covering his tortuously slowly fading arousal with his long arms. Jesse shimmied under the blankets, pulling them up over his shoulder.

"That being the part where you wrap your arms around me and let me fall asleep with my head on your breast," Jesse said, his smile surprisingly coy.

Deen's hands felt numb at the needy way the blonde had said that, but he lifted them anyway, draping them around the strong shoulders. Jesse made a happy little noise as he lay his cheek against Deen's bicep, letting his head fall forward until his bangs parted against Deen's shirt.

"Thank you, my friend," Jesse mumbled, seemingly already falling asleep. "I fear I'll never be able to repay you for everything you've done for me." Deen's grip on the blonde tightened, one set of fingers finding blonde curls, the other appreciating the muscle under it.

A few minutes ticked by, Deen's mind surprisingly blank, put at ease by Jesse's cooing and quiet sighs. He figured he should have been unnerved by what had just happened, thought he should have felt used. Instead, a soft, warm and tender feeling was all he felt. Until Jesse spoke once more.

"Ooh, hey. Is that a sword, or are you happy to see me, huh?"

Deen reached down and pulled his sword and holster from his belt, fighting with the blankets to get it out from under them, turning only enough to lay it on the bed above their heads.

"That actually was my sword," he said and drew Jesse back into his arms. He was delighted by the amused chuckle the other gave.

After the blonde fell asleep, Deen pressed his lips to the top of Jesse's head for a moment. He soon fell asleep, face buried in blonde curls.


	14. Chapter 14

Deen wakes in the middle of the night, bleary-eyed only until he realized what the source of the sound was that woke him. The handle to the door rattled slightly in it's housing, and Deen finds himself instantly alert when the door starts to creep open. Certain he had locked it, that no gust could force it open, Deen slid further down the bed so he would be obscured more by his partner's form and reached for his sword.

The light was so very low, the moon only a crescent and not giving much more than an outline of his surroundings and a splash of color to the brightest objects. He couldn't tell what the figure was wearing as it stalked closer to Jesse's side of the bed, but Deen would recognize those carrot colored curls anywhere.

Vivian approached, something in her hands too dark to see. When she raised them, Deen acted without needing to give it a thought.

Sword only halfway unsheathed, he blocked her dagger's strike over Jesse, whose eyes shot open at the loud clang of metals. She stumbled back, Jesse sat up, throwing the covers back. Deen slid from the bed, the only sound he made the one of the sheets rustling.

"What the hell?!" Jesse demanded, jumping to his feet. He sucked in his stomach and arched to avoid another thrust of her dagger.

"That's what I should be saying!" the redhead screeched. "I thought you two were fighting- not- fucking," she complained, her words punctuated by more thrusts at the blonde who, despite the small space, maneuvered out of the way of her blade fairly easily. Deen moved around behind her, drawing his sword the rest of the way as Jesse reached for his sword and clambered over the bed, wanting to put it between he and his attacker. She turned and faced Deen down, looking a lot less fearful than he expected her to be. "Are you fucking?" she asked. "He's nude and you're fully clothed," she noted. "Well! It isn't impor-"

The swing of Deen's sword cut her off, but Vivian, to the surprise of the men, blocked his strike with her dagger, managing to fend off his strength with her small arms and seven inch blade. She grinned, and her teeth looked gray and sharp in the gloomy pattern of light that filtered in through the window. The older man took a step back, stunned.

"As I was saying," she said, changing the way she gripped the dagger's handle, "I guess it doesn't matter. You both can die, for all I care. Though, I've no hard feelings against you. It's nothing personal, Deen." Jesse called out to Vivian, but she launched herself at Deen, using the end of the bed to brace herself and launch right back into action when she ducked a swing of his sword.

The tip of her blade managed to get close enough to briefly snag on Deen's shirt before his foot was in her gut, throwing her back. She bit down on a curse of pain and ducked through Deen's legs, sliding under the mattress, which was held from the ground with some iron framework.

"For fuck's sake, Vivian!" Jesse hollered, jumping back when her dagger made for one of his ankles. On instinct, he stabbed at her small hand as it appeared and vanished and despite not hitting her, he regretted it. "Could we not do this?" he asked, hopping up on the long wooden desk that sat against one wall. He knocked over a teacup and it fell to the floor to shatter.

Having had enough, Deen grabbed the mattress with a snarl and flung it across the room. Luckily, the straw and downy thing missed the fireplace.

Vivian scrambled to her feet and jumped over the iron bars her cover had laid on as she headed for the window. Jesse reached out for her arm, but she pulled it back, out of the way, climbing up in the sill.

"Vivian, don't," Jesse warned as Deen stalked up, his lips pulled from his teeth in a snarl. "You'll never make that jump."

"Watch me," she said with a wicked grin, sliding out the window.

Jesse grimaced, slipping off of the table to bury his face in Deen's chest. The older man wrapped an arm around his shoulders, holding him close, as his other hand still gripped the hilt of his sword.

"I don't want to look," Jesse admitted.

"At least we will know it is over," Deen reasoned.

"Hey, I heard a commotion," Kamui said, poking his head in the door. "What's- uh," he stopped taking in the state of things: Jesse nude and leaning against a fully clothed Deen with his sword unsheathed and ready to attack, the mattress across the room, shattered dishes and scattered silverware on the floor. "Someone wanna fill me in?" he asked, raising a brow and leaning himself against the door's frame.

"Vivian attacked Jesse in his sleep," Deen growled, easing the blonde away from him.

"Uh huh," Kamui said, his brow still raised. "And what were you doing in here when- ya know what, I actually don't want to know that. Where is she now?"

Jesse grimaced when Deen answered that question; "She jumped from the window. Surely she has perished from the fall. We need only find her body."

Jesse dressed and Kamui returned to his room to put on clothes that were more appropriate for going outside. One of the men Deen hadn't gotten to know yet joined them in their search, providing them with lanterns, also having heard the brouhaha.

The four scoured the area, but found nothing. Deen remembered the woman who had jumped from the room in the new capital and ground his teeth. Vivian had moved much like her, but was shorter and smaller. The carrot haired girl had been trained by a professional. This was nowhere near over, he feared.

"Are you relieved that she is still alive?" Deen asked, trying to keep anger from his voice. They walked inside together, snuffing out the lanterns when they reached the well-lit halls.

"I shouldn't be, should I?" Jesse asked, giving a little laugh. "I suppose connections made in childhood just stick in some people. Surely you've friends from your youth you wouldn't be able to kill, should they attack you."

"Very few of my childhood friends are still alive," Deen admitted. "I can think of perhaps two I would have a difficult time defending myself from." They returned their lanterns to the man who had provided them, thanking him for their use and his assistance in the search. He nodded and apologized for not being able to find anything.

"Is there a story there?" Jesse asked, motioning for Deen to follow him as he headed to the kitchen in search of something to eat.

"Not an interesting one. Just the boy I played with the most and the girl my father tried to set me up with when we were approaching the age of majority."

"Oooh," Jesse cooed teasingly. "You had a childhood love?"

"I wouldn't call it a love," Deen said, examining the peel of an orange for any indication that it had been tampered with. "We got on well, and probably would have gotten married had she not joined the military."

"Oh," Jesse said sadly, finding a leftover bottle of ale in one of the cabinets. He took a swig straight from it. "I'm sorry for your loss."

"She has not passed, to my knowledge. We simply grew apart when we were given different posts."

"Well, it's good that she's still alive, at least," Jesse tried to comfort.

"Indeed," Deen answered, deciding the orange was safe enough to consume.

"Ho, Jesse, Deen!" the other man who shared their wing of the citadel greeted, coming around the corner from where the ovens and open fire pit were. "Nothing like a late night snack, eh?" he asked, grinning. His blocky face glistened with sweat and he motioned for them to follow. "Grab some bowls. I've made a stew with an entire bottle of bourbon and two chickens," he cheered, grabbing a dish for himself. He swiped the bottle from the Jesse when the blonde offered it. Jesse laughed and reached up to grab some bowls.

Deen beat him to it, standing much closer to his companion than he was usually comfortable with in public. Jesse let his hand fall to the counter, taking a moment to enjoy Deen's warmth against his side.

"Well, I suppose you're going to rub it in my face that you were right all along, huh?" Jesse asked, laughing to himself under his breath. Deen only shrugged once he had two wooden bowls in his hand. He threw the orange peel on a pile of compost in the corner of the preparation area, motioning with his head for Jesse to follow him.

"Tomorrow we will have to set out," Deen said softly as they rounded the corner to the man who had offered them food, "put an end to this."

Jesse knew what that implied, and it killed his appetite.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last night I told my best friend that if she doesn't wind up shipping my new babies, that I would do something awful "like giving a cricket a cloaking device and releasing it in [her] place so [she'd] never know where that annoying chirping is coming from."
> 
> Here's to hoping I don't have to invent Treknology.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to thank everyone for their comments thus far. I'm so glad other people are enjoying this ship.

Saber gave a long and frustrated groan when he realized he was going to be left in charge as Jesse and Deen prepared to set out on what they hoped was the final leg of their journey.

"But that knight and his Archinean boyfriend are coming up in a matter of days. I don't want to be in charge while working relations with Valentia _and_ Archinea," the redhead lamented. Kamui laughed at his friend's misery, earning himself an unamused glare.

"Hey, it's alright," Kamui soothed. "I'll be here. I have some experience with Archinean culture, so you won't be entirely on your own."

"Then it is settled," Deen said with an air of finality, adjusting the clasp on the new cloak he'd purchased. "We will leave immediately."

"I wish we had another option, guys," Jesse said with a sheepish grin, scratching the back of his head.

"You're surrounded by mercs," Saber pointed out, "hire one." Deen grunted in response.

"Doesn't sound like the bodyguard likes that idea too much," Kamui teased.

"Like I said," Jesse reiterated, unable to keep himself from chuckling, "no other option."

Saber groaned miserably.

They make haste back to where they'd found Vivian, only to find the house abandoned. Jesse thinks Deen may lose a few teeth if he doesn't stop grinding his jaw, but doesn't make a quip because he's just as frustrated. Deen once more decides to rid the house of traps.

The house is more heavily trapped than either one of the other two, and even Deen finds himself jumping out of the way of things that intend to maim. They're both sweating by the time they think they're finished.

"I'm starting to think her father put her up to going with us to kill me, you know, in order to restore her honor, or however the wealthy folk see that," Jesse said, leaning against a counter in the kitchen, crossing one leg over the other.

"That's as good a guess as any," Deen gave. "We've no leads now. We'll have to ask around for-" There came a soft click from behind the blonde.

Jesse pushed himself off the counter and took a step forward only to collapse in on himself with a pained groan.

"Jesse!" Deen gasped, taking a knee.

"Ah, fuck," Jesse managed, giving a shaky laugh. He reached up, gripping one of the spikes on Deen's armor, the other's long arms bracing him on his chest and back. "It hurts," Jesse grunted, a nervous smirk on his lips. "I don't want to look."

"It's a series of throwing knives," Deen told him, letting Jesse lean over his knee, the blonde's fingers scrabbling at his greaves.

"Can you pull them out?" Jesse asked.

"Two of them are deeply embedded. The third is not, and I could easily remove it," his voice wavered briefly. "I'm not sure I'm confident in removing the one closest your spine."

"Ya gotta pull them out, Deen. They're only gonna cause more damage if they stay," Jesse whined. "I can't walk with these like this. I mean, I could, but if you said one is near my spine," he trailed off into a grimace.

"We need to get you to a healer," Deen said, running his fingers through Jesse's sweat drenched hair.

"I agree. But, how, when I can't-" Jesse's scream broke Deen's heart, but he needed the blonde as relaxed as he could be given the situation to pull out the most dangerously placed knife. "Oh, gods," the blonde whispered. "You should have given me something to bite," Jesse complained, "I nearly took my tongue off."

"I'm sorry," Deen whispered, burying his face in blonde curls. He decided he would keep the dagger, the five inch thing with a tip shaped like an arrowhead with the express purpose of doing as much damage as possible upon being pulled out. He decided he would kill the girl with the trap she laid for Jesse. "Let me pull the other ones out now. You can bite my hand if you like," he said, offering the leather-covered limb to him.

"N-no, just, here," Jesse said, placing his own hand in Deen's. "Do it quick," he said and shouted once more, not expecting Deen to pull out the next one so soon. He squeezed Deen's hand until his knuckles were white, until his fingers were bloodless with the force of his grip.

"One more," Deen whispered into his companion's hair. "This one won't be so bad," he promised. It stung something fierce, but luckily it was hanging by the arrow shaped head in the fatty tissue on Jesse's side, rather than the muscle of his back. The older man gently pried it out, his other hand still in the blonde's death grip, his face still buried in soft, but greasy hair. "Give me my hand back," Deen asked softly. "We need to get you to a healer. Can you feel your legs?"

Deen prayed to any god that would listen that the blade near his spine wouldn't rob his best friend of his ability to walk.

"Yes," Jesse said, moving back to his knees. "My left leg is tingling a bit, like when I was tied up all those months ago, but I can certainly feel it." He laughs a little, looking up at Deen with something in his expression that the older swordsman can't place. Deen takes to his feet and scoops Jesse up. "Wha- hey! I'm not some blushing maiden!" he complains, though he's laughing. Despite the pain, he's smiling. "You can't carry me all the way to a healer. I'm heavier than I look."

"I can and I will," Deen says, staring Jesse down. It's a lot harder to do when their faces are so close together, but he presses on, "and you will stop complaining and hold still so you don't cause any more damage to your spine than the walk already will. Pray, if it will keep you quiet."

"OK," Jesse said, surprising Deen, wrapping his arms around the slender neck as best he could with the other's armor in the way. He let his head rest on Deen's shoulder guard above the top spike and closed his eyes to pray.

Jesse realized he'd fallen asleep at some point when he wakes to his face buried in a white pillowcase that smells of cucumbers and melon. The sheets draped over him are white, the walls he can see when he lifts his head are white, and he feared, just for a moment, that he had died.

"Rest a bit longer, sir," a soft, feminine voice asked of him and he craned his neck to get a look. Along his back is the familiar tingling left behind after healing magic washes over a wound. He smiles, then, knowing Deen got him to someone who could treat his wound.

"Sure thing, but, uh," he said, wrapping his arms around the pillow under him and realizing his shirt and armor had been removed, "am I going to be able to walk after I've rested?" He thought he started sweating again the silence dragged on, as the woman didn't answer.

"Yes, sir," she said, and he was relieved, sagging back into the almost-soft sheets. "You will have full mobility, as you were before your injury, given you rest for a few days. You have some company," she informed, and he heard quick little footsteps carrying her away.

Silence filled the air, but Jesse knew he wasn't alone.

"Deen," he said with a smile. He felt heat to his right and opened his eyes to find the other, sans his armor, kneeling at his side. His hair was mussed, his lips set in a thin line, worry written into his expression. "Hey," was all the blonde said. Deen smiled, and Jesse wondered what kind of magic the healer had used on him, the tingling reaching further than just his back.

"How are you feeling?" the older man asked, his voice low and soothing. Jesse thought he could fall asleep to it.

"Pretty alright. They got me on some good stuff," he said with a little laugh.

"They didn't give you any medicine, as far as I'm aware."

"Must be some good magic, then," Jesse joked and licked his lips. He thought they might crack with how dry they were, because he couldn't stop grinning.

"You'll be able to walk again," Deen said. It didn't sound like a question, but the blonde knew it was one.

"Yeah, I'll be good as new after a little rest."

Deen helped Jesse sip from his waterskein, and a not entirely unpleasant silence grew between them.

"You worry me," Deen admitted, pushing Jesse's hair out of his face. The heat of the older man's fingers felt nice. "You're lucky that trap didn't permanently disable you, or worse."

"Don't worry," Jesse said, taking Deen's hand in his own. He laced their fingers together and let their intertwined hands rest on the bed. "As long as you're with me, I'll be fine. You're my good luck charm."

The taller swordsman made a vaguely embarrassed noise, but didn't pull away.

"In the morning, we'll move to an inn," Deen said, unable to say the words he wanted to. He can't catch the butterflies in his stomach to make sense of them. "For now, rest."

When they moved to an inn, Jesse started whining, lamenting his injury so Deen would pamper him, and it started to get on the older man's nerves. The butterflies scatter when Jesse whines that he's hungry, that Deen should feed him when the other points out his soup on the bedside stand. Instead of feeding the blonde, Deen hits the back of his head with a pillow.

"Ow! Those are goose feathers!" Jesse complained, sitting up to return the gesture.

"Sorry," Deen said, blocking the half-hearted strike with his arm. He wasn't, though, his grin showing as much. "But, now that you're sitting up, you can feed yourself," he teased. Jesse grumbled, grabbed his soup anyway. "While I was waiting to be able to see you at the healer's house, I stepped out and asked around about the baron's family," Deen started once Jesse's mouth was full. The blonde made a questioning noise around a mouthful of potato chunks. "It was rumored that he has taken ill, as no one has seen him while his family was living in the city. Only his maid and housekeeper showed their faces, buying supplies and medicines. They say he was moving around, looking for the best climate for his particular breed of illness. Those who spoke to me about it told me they had suggested he move further south, into the mountains."

"Well, it's something," Jesse said, setting the empty bowl from the soup he'd scarfed aside.

"I was considering going on ahead, searching them down and ridding us of them all while you stayed here to recover, but I wanted to discuss the option with you first. I know you will hesitate, should you have to kill Vivian, so I thought I might-"

"No," Jesse gasped, horrified.

For a moment, Deen looked taken aback. He soon relaxed, heaving out a sigh. "I know you want to work things out with her, but I'm afraid-"

"No, that's not it," the blonde said, shaking his head. He reached out and put his hand over Deen's forearm, his grip gentle but firm. "I don't want you going off without me," he said, the words just this side of desperate. "And yes," his fingers squeezed for a moment, nails digging into the cotton of Deen's shirt, "I probably will hesitate if I absolutely have to kill her." His voice became quiet, "but that's what you'll be there for, to save me when I can't save myself."

"You're too forgiving," Deen said, unable to put any weight behind the admonition. "But, I suppose that's why you're always filled with so much joy."

Jesse gave a brilliant grin, tempered by a slight blush at what he saw as praise. It softened, and honey eyes bore into Deen's steady gaze.

"But you won't leave without me, right?"

"I will not," Deen answered.

"Good, then come cuddle me."

"I will do no such thing while you're injured."

"Aww, but I need the affection to help me heal!"

"You need rest, food and water, which you won't get if you're heckling me all night about the way I try to sleep."

"Deen," he whined, drawing out the other's name.

"No."

"Deen," he drew it out even longer.

"No," Deen took a turn drawing out his words.

"Deen," once more he whined the name, trying his best puppy dog eyes on the other. When Deen sighed, he knew he had won.


	16. Chapter 16

Further south, they inquire about the baron in towns they pass through. Most shopkeepers mention his housekeeper or his maid. A few speak of his daughter, a beautiful and dainty redhead, rather fond of the color green. Deen and Jesse shared looks that were none too pleased with this revelation.

"I thought her father told her not to come back," Jesse said as they walked.

"It appears that your idea is more likely with every new detail we learn," Deen surmised. Jesse gave a frustrated groan.

Further gossip led them to another town in the shadow of a large hill covered in dense plant life. Though the sounds of the forest never found their ears due to the panicked gasps of the other well-off families in the neighborhood who fled their homes. When Jesse managed to gain the ear of one of the fleeing men, he was informed that the Lundburg estate was aflame. The man lamented how his own family's home would soon succumb to the blaze and quickly hurried away, leaving Jesse without breath at the news.

Finally, after a long moment, he drew in a sharp breath and took off in the direction others were fleeing from. Even with his long limbs, Deen had to put in serious effort to keep up.

Jesse came to a halt before the flaming house, boots kicking up rocks as he slid. Deen grabbed his arm to keep him from falling over. The blonde didn't thank him, but he hadn't been expecting it. He hadn't been expecting the younger man to run into the flaming residence.

"Jesse, wait!" Deen called, but the other paid him no mind. Smoke quickly obscured Jesse's form and Deen cursed. He wrapped his cloak around the lower half of his face and ran in after his companion. "Jesse!" he called again, pushing a broken beam out of his way. He would hear the other screaming for Vivian, for the baron, for the waitstaff. He couldn't have been far away by the volume of his voice. Embers wafted through the heavy air, stinging at Deen's eye, but he pressed on.

A section of the staircase started to cave, unable to support itself when it's bottom had been turned to charcoal. The railing groaned as it leaned leavily, the nails that held it to the wooden steps pulled up as the wood burned. Deen flung himself at Jesse as the metal fell. A new wave of embers filled the air when it landed behind them, blowing them out with the weight of the object.

The blonde gathered in his arms, Deen held his cloak tight over his own mouth. Jesse gaped as he looked up at the other. With an irritated growl, he took a fistful of his cloak and shoved it over the other's face and mouth.

"We need to get out of here, you fool," Deen shouted over the cacophony around them. "There is nothing we can do." Jesse fought him for a moment, but relented soon, closing his eyes for just a moment. When he opened them again, they were full of tears and he nodded once, taking hold of Deen's cloak to hold it over his mouth himself. The older man wrapped one arm around Jesse so they could navigate their way out of the flames together.

Once outside, some distance from the house, Deen uncorked his waterskein and poured water over the embers that remained on Jesse, splashed a few drops over his profusely sweating face. He then shucked his gloves, which he was sure were still hot to the touch, and turned the blonde's face up, putting the bottle to his lips so he could drink. When Deen was satisfied, he drank from the skein himself.

He cursed when he touched his armor, burning his hand. Jesse reached out and pried open the clasps, uncaring of his fingers, to get the molten armor off of his friend. Once they were truly safe from the heat, Jesse wrapped his arms around Deen's middle and buried his face in the older man's chest, his shoulders heaving with one sob before he just stood there and waited. Deen wrapped his arms around broad shoulders for a long moment, but eventually eased the other away.

"We should find gravel to ring the house with so the fire does not spread to others," he suggested. "Once the fire is out, we can look for the bodies."

"Alright," Jesse managed, wiping away his tears.

Deen felt a bit guilty for a moment, but there would be time for mourning later, after the bodies were found, were buried, like he hoped the whole ordeal would soon be.

They gathered what help they could find and scooped up gravel from the walkways of surrounding homes to layer the grass outside of the burning mansion. Deen shed his hide shirt, rolling up his sleeves and unbuttoning his collar in an effort to deal with the heat. Jesse gave a bitter laugh at his luck, yet again only getting seductive little glimpses of Deen's skin in the worst moments. Once the lodgings were surrounded by enough gravel that Deen was convinced the fire wouldn't spread as long as they watched the flyaway embers, they sat back to wait. They finished the water in the pouch Deen carried, and the blonde finally got a moment to admire his partner, though it was tainted by the stench of death that hung in the air and wrapped around his lungs.

The fire died down by the evening, but the embers were still too hot to sift through, so they went for food and fresh water. They returned and slept in the grass of an abandoned house across the way. In the morning, they picked through the wreckage.

They found four bodies. The baron's was the most easily identified, as well as the house keeper's. The last two bodies were slight, and assumed to be the baron's daughter and the family's maid. Jesse cried again, briefly, and suggested they say a prayer. Deen gave a silent prayer to Mila for the souls of the family and staff, and for himself to let go of his grudge, his over-protectiveness and jealousy now that it was all over. He added another for Jesse to overcome his grief, to give him the strength to return home and continue living his dream.

They spent that night in an inn, and Deen fed Jesse to make sure he would eat, even though the blonde didn't ask. He curled up against the older man, and Deen wrapped his arms around him without a fuss.

Their travel home was unusually quiet, both lost in their own minds. Deen worried about where the joy and light he used to see in the other's honey eyes had gone, if it would return and, to his shame, wondered if Jesse had felt more for Vivian than he had let on.

Jesse was angry with himself for not being happy that it was over, upset with himself for getting so attached to Vivian when he knew he shouldn't have trusted her in the first place, should have taken Deen's word. He was also broken up over the fact that Deen would be leaving him soon. It slowed his steps, as he wanted to draw out every moment he had left with the other swordsman, even if the knowledge of his impending departure left his heart in shreds.

When they reached the land of mercenaries again, Jesse was reluctant to let Deen go anywhere by himself, even when the other assured him he was only going to bathe. Jesse's strong fingers held fast in Deen's shirt and the older man gave in, letting the blonde accompany him as he removed his shirt and wiped the grime from his upper body with a wet cloth. He did the same for Jesse, the blonde making pleased sounds at the cool water Deen squeezed from the cloth washing away the events of the last year.

Later, Deen sat with Jesse in his room. They ate chili filled bread that Kamui had brought them, and Saber stopped by to welcome Jesse and Deen back. He didn't push any paperwork on the blonde yet as Kamui had already informed him of how uncharacteristically morose their leader was.

When they were alone, silence fell over the room. It weighed heavily, bearing down on their shoulders, unlike the usual comfortable silence they shared.

"I suppose you'll be leaving me now, huh," Jesse said eventually, tapping his fingers on the table by which he sat.

"What?" Deen asked, looking up from where he'd been studying the floor between his feet.

"You said you'd be staying with me until you were sure Vivian wasn't trying to kill me anymore, and," he drew the word out, though it lacked it's usual teasing mirth, "she kinda can't anymore, so, there's that whole thing done with, I guess."

Deen stood, leaving his sword propped against the bed, his armor piled in a heap on the floor. He left his belt and waterskien alongside his armor and approached Jesse. The blonde looked up when Deen loomed over him, one long arm stretching out before him to brace himself on the table, the other bracketing Jesse in on the back of his chair. He blinked twice, his lips parting in a silent question.

"I've no intention of leaving your side. I thought I'd made that clear," he said. "If I haven't, then allow me to."

When Deen's lips met his own, Jesse was shocked still. He returned the kiss just a moment too late because the other had already pulled away.

"I- If I have misinterpreted- forgive me-" Deen fumbled, his hand over his mouth, jaw already clenching, heart racing. Jesse jumped up as the other turned away. "I'll show myself out," the older man forced himself to mumble.

"I wish you wouldn't," Jesse said, putting a hand on Deen's arm to turn the other around. He reached up, cupping his cheek and tracing the end of his scar with his thumb. "I'm sorry if I made you think- well, I didn't think you were into me like that. Every time I'd tried- every time I flirted with you, you ignored me. So, I," he laughed a little, "kinda gave up hope after a while. It just surprised me is all. Now, come down here, and let's try that again, huh?"

Deen leaned his forehead against Jesse's, closing his eye at the blonde's confused look.

"I need to say something first," Deen said, one hand finding it's way into Jesse's hair.

"I'm listening," the younger man offered.

"I didn't react because I didn't want to be one of your conquests. I had judged you in that regard, yes, and I am sorry. But I," Deen took a deep breath, sighed quietly, "I intend this to be something that lasts more than one night. If that's not what it is for you, then please," he trailed off, unable to find the right words.

"Gods, Deen," Jesse said, laughing. "Are you kidding me? I want you by my side for the rest of my life. Not just because you're my good luck charm, either, I-" he stopped to laugh again, turning his face up so he could rub his nose against Deen's, "-I have a lot of fun with you, the way we hassle each other feels so right, and I sleep so well when you're next to me. Truth be told, I've wanted more than just friendship with you for a while now. Yes, it was lust at first, I admit, but the way you care for me, it- it means so much to me. I just didn't think you were into men, to be honest. Well," he gave a nervous little laugh, "I'd started thinking you weren't into anyone." Deen scoffed fondly. "But yeah, no, this is more than one night, Deen. So... Can we kiss again? I'd like a do-over since I just sat there like a bump on a log the first time."

"Of course," Deen said, his lips parting in a soft sigh as Jesse brought their mouths together.

The blonde was so tender, so loving, stroking his cheek and not being handsy as the older man had expected. He was everything Deen had ever hoped for in a first kiss, and forgot their previous fumble, giving all of himself to the new lip lock.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since I'm feeling generous, have some more porn.

Deen would not give in completely to Jesse's advances that night. Instead, he took the other in his mouth again, allowing himself to admit that he enjoyed the act. He was nervous of allowing his partner to return the favor, but far enough gone to let Jesse's spit-slick hand into his pants to stroke him off.

They spent many hours just kissing over the next few weeks, and Deen moved what little he owned into Jesse's room, deciding they were long past the need to maintain an image of any kind. They knew they were fooling no one.

Saber was incredibly relieved to turn control back to Jesse and ran off on a job the second the paperwork was out of his hands.

"Deen," Jesse cooed one night, watching the other shed his sweaty shirt. The blonde found himself delighted that Deen had grown comfortable enough with him to start taking off his clothes around him with no pretext.

"Yes?" Deen answered, his eye widening when Jesse embraced him from behind. Jesse licked a trail up his spine and buried his nose in the back of the older man's neck to inhale his scent. Deen reached back to put a hand on Jesse's side, rubbing up and down as the other gave what he'd hoped was a seductive growl. Deen laughed.

"You're so gorgeous," Jesse said, turning the other man around. He paid his hand on Deen's chest, marveling at how dark the other's skin was in comparison to his own. He briefly wondered how he'd never noticed that before, but pushed it from his mind as he gave Deen a little shove.

Deen could have resisted the push, but he gave in and fell back on the bed, looking up at Jesse with a raised brow. He soon found himself with a lap full of grinning blonde.

"So lovely," Jesse marveled, running his hands up from Deen's stomach, over his chest and to his shoulders. He gave a brief massage, lasting all of thirty seconds before appreciating the tight skin over the lean muscles of the older man's long arms. He leaned down and took Deen's lips, the purple haired man's eye falling closed. He surrendered to the kiss, his tongue meeting Jesse's as it wandered over his teeth. Deen gasped into the other's mouth when fingers trailed down his sides. When he broke their kiss, the blonde moved to the sweaty neck, pushing aside Deen's hair so he could suck the moisture from his skin and drag his teeth across it teasingly.

"Don't mark me up," Deen complained, though he reached for the zip of Jesse's shirt.

"Your armor will cover it," Jesse said against the other's skin.

"I don't wear my armor every day now," Deen continued, even as he pulled Jesse's shirt over his shoulders. The blonde sat back to take it off, dropping it somewhere behind him. "Someone will see."

"Then they'll know you're mine," Jesse growled playfully, hid fingers brushing over dusky nipples as his hands headed south.

"We should maintain some modesty," Deen complained, resting his hands in the bends of Jesse's arms. He knew his face colored when he made an aroused noise at the way Jesse flexed for him, but the other quickly distracted him with his lips along his shoulder.

"Only in public, right?" Jesse teased, scraping his teeth over the slope. "We can get filthy in here, can't we?"

"I- I suppose," Deen said, averting his gaze.

"Hey," Jesse said, sitting back. He could feel Deen's length straining against his backside, but he could see the trepidation on his features. "If you're unsure, we don't have to, ya know," Jesse promised.

"It isn't that I don't want to, it's just that I've never," he trailed off with a loose shrug.

"It's not that much different than it is with a woman," Jesse said, wriggling his hips, "it's just a different kind of foreplay."

"I've never been with a woman," Deen said, looking up at Jesse. The blonde would have laughed, would have thought it a joke had he not seen the seriousness in Deen's stare. "I've only been with you."

Jesse gave a little groan, his length trying to rip it's way out of his smallclothes. Deen took the sound the wrong way, shifting nervously under the blonde. He held onto thick biceps, his fingers clenching and relaxing.

"I'm sorry I don't have the same experience-"

"Shh," Jesse demanded, taking Deen's lips in a hard, short kiss. "Don't apologize," he growled. Jesse gave a sigh and let his head come to rest over Deen's heart. "Gods, if I'd known it was your first time, I'd have made dinner first and covered the bed in rose petals." Jesse gave an awkward laugh and raised his head to meet Deen's eyes. Deen scoffed fondly and ran his hands up Jesse's arms, his hands coming to rest on Jesse's cheeks.

"I don't need those things. I only need that you love me, and I will give you my body- and enjoy doing so."

"Gods, Deen, I don't think I've the words to tell you how much I do," Jesse said, turning his face into one of his partner's palms to place a kiss against it.

"Then have me," Deen offered, his hands falling away, laying above his head in a submissive gesture that had Jesse in a frenzy.

The blonde fumbled with the ties to Deen's pants, then climbed off of the other to rid himself of his own. His length throbbed impatiently when he climbed back on the bed, Deen having rid himself of his own trousers and undergarments. The older man had moved further up the bed, but drawn his legs up to cover himself.

"Let me see you," Jesse asked, trailing his hand up Deen's shin. His legs were as long and thin and leanly muscled as his arms, and he wanted to worship each one with his mouth. In the end, he decided to save that for another time when the purple haired swordsman straightened out his legs. "Oh, Deen," Jesse breathed, running his fingers through purple curls before taking his lover's length in hand.

He almost laughed, thinking he should have figured that the other's length was as long and thin as the rest of him, would have had he not been so concerned about Deen's self-confidence at the moment. He decided he would teach the other to have a laugh in bed later and gently pulled back the dark foreskin, revealing a rose red, leaking head. Deen gave a nervous little "ah" and the smallest shift of his hips.

"How long were you planning on hiding this treasure from me, huh?" Jesse asked, leaning over a thigh to press a kiss to the tip. Deen's lips parted at the feeling of Jesse's tongue darting out for a taste. The blonde laved his lover's cock with attention, distracting him as he reached over to the bedside stand, pulling the drawer open only enough to coat his fingers in oil.

Deen cursed, louder each time with each new inch Jesse took in his mouth. His hands found a fistful of blonde curls and sturdy lats to dig nails into, unable to do more than shake and cuss, missing Jesse's fingers disappearing into himself. The blonde moaned around the length in his mouth, pulling away as soon as he was sure he would be able to take it.

Deen sagged back into the bed, staring up at Jesse with a look of wonder.

"Hey, if you look that happy after just that," Jesse teased, "you're gonna love what comes next."

He crawled back up over Deen, leaning down to kiss him. The older man readily accepted, too needy to even consider where the other's mouth had just been. Deen groaned as Jesse sank down on him, pushing at his chest when the blonde was fully seated.

"You-" was all he could manage.

"Yeah," Jesse breathed, the new position changing the angle and pressure. He fought not to groan, but gave in to the sensation, his eyes fluttering closed. "You had something else in mind?"

"I didn't-" Deen couldn't find the words, his hips moving of their own accord, fucking the tight heat he was encased in. "-have anything-" he gasped, watching the muscles of Jesse's stomach flex as he squeezed around him. Deen almost wailed, biting it back at the last second. "Didn't think you'd- Oh, Jesse," he groaned, giving in to the pleasure, his hands finding muscular thighs to brace himself on. Jesse took his own length in two fingers and his thumb, just enough oil remaining on his hand to ease the slide.

"I love hearing you say my name like that," the blonde gasped, rocking his hips to meet Deen's thrusts. The purple haired swordsman called out for his lover again, his nails making welts on thick, straining thighs. "Yeah, Deen, just like that. Feels good. So good," Jesse chanted, his free hand wandering up Deen's torso to his neck, then to his cheek, leaning forward so the angle changed again. Jesse pushed Deen's hair out of his face and admired the lost look of wonder in his eye for a moment before leaning down to take his lips again.

Deen groaned into the younger man's mouth, trying desperately to return the kiss, wrapping his long arms around the other's shoulders. His nails drew red lines over Jesse's upper back when the silken heat fluttered around him, bit down on Jesse's lip when the blonde groaned his name, garbled between their desperate mouths.

"Come on, baby," Jesse breathed, their lips brushing as he spoke, "please." Deen's hands slid further down Jesse's back, tracing the lines of the shoulder blades of the relaxing body. Jesse continued to rock, resting his head in the crook of Deen's neck. "Wanna feel the evidence of how good you feel inside me," he rumbled, "mine's already on your gorgeous belly, in those beautiful curls. Yeah, there it is," Jesse groaned when Deen sighed, his length throbbing again and again, pulling delightfully at the blonde's insides.

Jesse rocked until he was sure Deen was spent, all tension gone from the body beneath him. Both men gave pleased little sighs.

"Jesse," was all Deen could manage, bringing one barely cooperative hand up to thread his fingers in sweaty curls.

"How was it?" Jesse asked, wrapping his arms around Deen as best he could, hooking his arms under the other's shoulders.

"I haven't the words," Deen breathed, petting his lover's hair. His other hand fell away to the mattress, but he couldn't be bothered to move it.

"Good?"

"Yes."

"Good," Jesse said with a light chuckle.

They soon fell asleep, wrapped up in each other and the blankets, Jesse's face buried in Deen's chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I kinda wanted to add "Power Bottom Jesse" or something of the sort to the tags, but I figured I'd let readers guess who's what went where for a while.
> 
> Also, brace yourselves for the last chapter - it's a doozy. I might split it in two because I fear it'll be too long if I don't, but I'll post both at the same time if I do so no one is kept in suspense.


	18. Chapter 18

In time, Jesse's country thrived, having almost too many citizens and guests for her borders to hold.

Almost every day was filled with work. For Jesse and Kamui, they found themselves with more paper cuts than battle scars as the days went on, but still slipped from their desks from time to time to keep their skills sharp, to earn a little income that wasn't in the form of taxes they prayed to Mila their citizens thought were fair. Saber often filled whatever post suited his fancy that day, when he wasn't out on a job, taking particular joy in working the gates and meeting new travelers, though he saw himself on desk duty whenever Jesse or Kamui slipped out. Deen continued to only relinquish his sword when he was alone with Jesse, but found that he was rather skilled with a hammer and thus spent long hours assisting in building the homes that there were more buyers for than the wood to produce.

The couple spent every night curled up together and, more than once, Deen pushed Jesse from their bed when he found the other really liked his smell after a long day of work, but he was far too tired to reciprocate. Deen smirks to himself every time the blonde whines from the floor.

Jesse's behavior with strangers was still flirtatious, but it was his nature and Deen had learned to differentiate from the serious advances turned to him and the teasing ones the blonde used to embarrass and flatter others. He found it hard to be jealous when the blonde would brush their fingers together when they were in the same room, steal kisses when he thought no one was looking. Deen also learned to appreciate the bar scene for more than what he'd originally thought it was good for; only drinking, whoring, and occasionally gathering information. He came to enjoy watching Saber, Kamui, Jesse and their other friends relax with a pint, he came to delight in the stories the other's told, especially when one would embarrass his blonde lover. He even took joy in Jesse's off key singing, failing to reign in his laughter when the younger man would sling his arm around Saber's shoulders and the two should belt out some horrendous tune. He had to excuse himself when the whole bar would join in, to go outside to laugh with the twinkling stars that seemed just as full of mirth.

When Deen received a package in the mail, held shut with a wax stamp of the dreaded seal he'd thought he'd never see again, he could only balk. He figured he should have known better than to assume things were truly over, that he could relax and enjoy the rest of his days. When he opened the package, it's only contents were the body of a rat. He knew a threat when he saw one.

Deen sealed himself away in one of the spare rooms used as book storage and study, putting his feelings to paper and folding it neatly. He bought a box with a lock as he gathered supplies for the journey he intended to set out on, alone, and put the letter inside with several dozen gold marks he'd acquired over the years. He put the box under the bed he shared with Jesse and sat at the end of it in full armor, wating for his lover to retire.

"Hey, beautiful," Jesse said when he came in the room. He leaned over the slender form for a kiss, which was readily gave. Deen wrapped his arms around the blonde, just holding him for a long moment as their lips moved together. "Mm," Jesse cooed when they parted, "what's with the getup? You goin' somewhere, my love?" Deen didn't want to part with the other, but he knew he had to and soon, lest he lose his nerve.

"Yes, I have a mission," was all Deen would give. He stole another kiss.

"Aw, and you didn't tell me? I could stand to stretch my legs," Jesse whined.

"You should concern yourself with the country right now. Lukas and Chet are coming up again in a few weeks. You should turn your attention on that meeting."

"You won't be back in a few weeks?" the blonde moaned, letting his head fall to Deen's shoulder above the top spike of his armor.

"I'm afraid I won't," Deen said, "my mission is a search of sorts." Deen stood, wrapping his arms around his younger lover.

"Well, do try to hurry back," Jesse said, swaying slightly, his fingers locked behind Deen's back. "I'll have a gift for you upon your return."

"I look forward to it," Deen said, brushing blonde curls that could use a trim out of the other's face. They shared one more kiss before Deen pulled away and picked up his bag. "Here," he said, holding out a key to the other.

"What's this?" Jesse asked.

"If I haven't returned in six months, I want you to open the box under our bed."

"Six months," Jesse balked.

"Valentia is a large continent, my dear," Deen reasoned.

"I suppose, but I don't want to miss you for that long," Jesse complained.

"You will manage. If not, I'm sure Kamui would cuddle with you in my absence, maybe one of your fan club," he teased.

"I wouldn't do that to you!" Jesse gasped and Deen chuckled. "Get going so you can get back sooner," the blonde ordered.

"Yes, sir," Deen said.

The first few weeks were bearable, though Jesse got less sleep than he'd become accustomed to, his meeting with representatives of Valentia going well despite his worry. The little blonde who was never far from Lukas' side put a pale hand on his arm and gave the leader a knowing smile. There was a far off look in grey eyes as he promised Jesse that Deen was alright, as if he could somehow tell. When they leave for Valentia's capital, however, worry consumes Jesse.

Six excruciating months pass, and Jesse puts off opening the box for a few more days, though he fidgets with the key, thinking Deen will walk in the door at any moment. The gift he had made for Deen sits in the drawer of his bedside stand. He can't bring himself to look at it, to hope, to imagine the other's reaction like he would when he first thought if it.

Eventually, he can distract himself with work no more, having finished everything with the aid of bitter coffee, and opened the box. He unfolded the letter and read, his eyes glazing over with tears as he moved further down the page.

_Jesse,_

_If you are reading this, I am likely dead. Do not mourn for me, for your struggle is not yet over. I perished on a quest to actually end the danger to your life and dream. I received a threat from the very same woman we thought had been ended by the fire, and set out to eliminate her once and for all. I should have known that her passing was too convenient, her body too difficult to identify. She has proved to be too much for me in the case that you see this letter. I am not good with words, but I wanted to tell you that I love you, that I wish I had the courage to say those exact words to your face. I also wished that I had something to leave to you with more sentimental value than money, but alas, my only possession with any value to me is my sword, and I need that should I intend to meet my goal on this quest. You once called me your good luck charm, so now I will instruct you to keep my love with you always, and I will pray that it brings you luck._

_-Deen_

Jesse sobbed, muttering little "no"s when he could find the breath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's OK if you cried while reading this. I cried writing it and I know how it ends. But, to cheer you up from that dreadfully sad chapter, and to kill the few minutes it will take me to upload the final chapter, I will tell you a funny story about bread. 
> 
> My boyfriend and I buy a brand of bread that has the following words on the package: "You can't beat the wheat!" We are as mature as children, thus laugh every time we go to make a sandwich.


	19. Chapter 19

Jesse turns rule of the country over to Saber while he mourns, barely touching the food Kamui and the bourbon chicken man force on him. He spends a month in bed, sighing and shifting about listlessly between bouts of sobs.

Eventually, though, he forced himself up only to drop to the floor for some push-ups. Deen gave his life so he could have his dream, he thought, so he should live it to the best of his ability even if half his heart had been ripped from his chest. He devoted himself fully to running the land, making sure everything ran smooth and efficient, making sure his people were happy even when he could not be.

He found small moments of joy in seeing families reunited after a kidnapped child had been rescued by one of his own citizens, in seeing treasured heirlooms returned to their rightful owners, in lovers embracing once more after rescued from bandits. But it's stilted. Kamui often offered to take on his work, but the blonde would have none of it.

Jesse works his fingers to the bone with paperwork, trains himself to exhaustion with sword practice, his arms growing even thicker as he tries to find sleep. He thought Deen might have liked the swelling of his biceps when he looks at himself in the moonlight one night, but his body has no reaction to the thought.

The door to his room rattled, the lock being opened. It crossed his mind to just let the assassin take his life, thinking Saber and Kamui can handle the land, but he refused to throw away everything Deen had done for him and grabbed his sword, drawing it from it's sheath silently. He readied himself when the door opened.

He dropped his sword when he saw a familiar lean form stalk in, cloak concealing all of him but one hand holding a cloth package.

"Deen," he gasped, darting toward him, wrapping his arms around the other's even thinner middle. The older man was breathing raggedly, amidst a panic, so Jesse ordered him to breathe, tears pouring down his cheeks.

"Please," Deen rasped, his voice scratchy as though it had been unused for some time, "give me a moment," he begged.

"Of course," Jesse said quickly, backing away only a step. He wanted to stay as close to the other as possible.

Deen closed the door with his foot, leaning back against it. When he got control of his breath, he held out the cloth package to his lover. Jesse almost smiled at how Deen used his left hand, but figured his lover's right would always be devoted to his sword.

"Malin sends her love," he managed. Jesse took the package, staring at it for a moment.

"You went to see my family?" the blonde asked, his voice small.

"I did," Deen breathed. "Your father and brother, and his new wife, moved into the old Lundburg mansion."

"How did they manage that?" Jesse asked, his hands starting to tremble on the package. He longed to draw Deen into his arms, but was happy enough for the moment just to keep him in his sight.

"I purchased it for them," Deen said, standing up straight. His chest rose and fell, his armor moving with it. "Malin and Gina opted to stay in the hovel, though they've made it something far more livable than it was when we visited."

"That's wonderful, Deen. Is that," he trailed off, his mouth hanging open for a moment. Eventually, he pressed on, "is that why you were gone so long? You were seeing to my family's needs?"

"No," Deen whispered with a shake of his head. "No," he said again, louder. "I purchased the house before I went off in search of Vivian. Though, I did spend time recovering in Malin and Gina's care after I faced down Vivian and Tamia."

"Tamia? The maid?" Jesse asked, setting the package aside. He approached Deen again, but the other turned so he could back away slightly.

"Yes," Deen answered. "She was an expert trap layer and assassin, taught Vivian. What had happened was... beyond what either of us had supposed."

"Tell me," Jesse whispered. "Uh, whenever you're ready that is. If you'd like to eat first, I've-"

"No," Deen interrupted. "I need to tell you everything before I lose my nerve and hide again." Jesse wanted to ask what the other meant by 'hide,' but merely nodded for him to continue. "By the time Vivian had started sending assassins, the baron had already been dead for some time. They managed to somehow preserve the body, and Vivian used his wealth to continue living her lifestyle, moving when neighbors became suspicious of not seeing more than a glimpse of the man supposedly sleeping." Jesse grimaced, making a small, disgusted noise. "Our chasing them after she left spooked her into giving up the charade, and they set the home ablaze, taking two women from the village to make us believe they all were dead."

"That's," Jesse trailed off, shaking his head. "What about the housekeeper?"

"They killed him, leaving him in the burning house. It was only Vivian and Tamia who wanted you dead. The housekeeper had been paid for his silence, but was eliminated in the end, anyway." Deen took a moment to steady himself, reminding himself to breathe.

"Shh," Jesse cooed, "just breathe, Deen."

After a long moment, Jesse shifted, dying to know if the threat to both of them had finally been laid to rest.

"They're dead now," Deen said, as if sensing what the younger man was thinking. "It wasn't without sacrifice, but your life is no longer under threat." Jesse made a happy sound, stepping forward once more.

"Thank you, my love. I can't tell you how relieved I am that you're home," he said, making to take Deen in his arms again. The older man turned away from him, his shoulders hunching under his cloak. "Deen," he drawled, worried that the other wouldn't let him embrace him.

Deen's voice wavered when he spoke, "I- told you there were sacrifices made." He finally held still, letting Jesse wrap his arms around him. Deen lifted his left hand to return the embrace, burying his face in blonde curls that could use a wash, but felt so wonderful to the older man regardless of their greasiness.

"What were- oh gods," Jesse breathed when he realized just what Deen had sacrificed. The blonde pulled back to push the taller man's cloak back over his shoulders. Deen bared his teeth and turned his head away as Jesse took in the sight of his lover's sword arm, missing from just above the elbow. "Deen," he breathed.

"I underestimated Tamia," he admitted between clenched teeth. "This is what kept me from returning to you for so long. I," he shook his head, grunted, "couldn't bare to see you in this state. I spent some time recovering in Malin and Gina's care. Malin cleaned the wound every day, and Gina used the healing magic she's learning to help me heal. Malin kept me sane, convinced me to return to you when I thought- well, forget it."

"You thought what?" Jesse asked, his hands on Deen's hips. He noticed the other's sword had been moved to the opposite hip.

"I thought you deserved better than a swordsman who had lost his sword arm, who was incomplete."

"Gods, Deen," Jesse sobbed. "How could you think something like that? My _heart_ is incomplete without you. I would love you no matter how many limbs you lost." Deen scoffed, his lips finally turning up.

"I hope I do not lose any more," he said. "If I do, I shall surely change my name to 'Lucky' and open a weapons stall in the market." Jesse laughed despite the situation.

"Gods," Jesse said once more. "Just- let me get you out of your armor and into bed. I need to hold you. I need to kiss you." He suddenly remembered something, as his fingers worked at the clasps of his pliant lover's armor. "And I need to give you the gift I promised you." Deen's eye opened wider, remembering what the blonde had said before he'd left.

With Deen down to only his shirt and pants, his long-sleeved button down tied off at the end of his injury, Jesse sat him on the bed. He took a small wooden box from the bedside stand and opened it, taking a knee before Deen.

"I wanted us to make a promise to each other," he said, showing the other two simple silver bands. "A promise of forever, give us something to look at that would make us smile every day."

"Jesse," Deen breathed, relinquishing his remaining hand to the blonde.

"I love you," the younger man said as he slipped the band onto Deen's finger. Jesse offered the other one to the seated man, holding out his hand so that Deen could put it on him.

"And I love you," Deen said. Jesse moved forward, burying his face in Deen's stomach, wrapping his arms around the slender form.

"Don't ever leave me again," he begged.

"I won't," Deen promised, running his fingers through Jesse's hair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has been an adventure, and I thank you all for joining me on it. I'm kinda proud of myself for writing a novella length story in under a week, if I'm honest. Let me have your feelings in the comments. 
> 
> Next I will be working on the Python/Everyone with endgame Forsyth/Python, and it will be porn with plot and feels. I totally forgot the memory prisms were a thing and wen't back and watched them all last night and got a little inspiration for this idea, so the Berkut/Fernand one some of you like the idea of is second in line. I'll need a little time on that one to sort out my ideas.


End file.
